The Stars Walk Backward
by OhBother3
Summary: The year was 1926. Anthony Crowley and his wife needed a tutor for their son Adam. Dozens applied but only one stuck out above the rest. It was impossible for Anthony to know at first how much of an impact Ezra Fell would have on his family, or more importantly on his heart. He wasn't certain of much anymore, but one thing was for sure, Crowley knew he would never be the same again
1. A Call For Help

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm really excited about this story. It's different than anything I've done before, so please let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Good Omens. Only the plot is mine. **

* * *

Anthony Crowley lounged in his favorite armchair as he haphazardly listened to his wife drone on and on about something or another during their afternoon tea. He stifled a sigh and brought the porcelain teacup to his lips, sipping lightly at the fruity liquid before placing it back down on the matching saucer. White porcelain printed with small pink roses - hybrid tea roses to be exact. The most popular and boring of them all, in his opinion, but no one really cared what an investment banker seemed to think about roses, least of all his wife.

"And just think, darling, our little Adam would be in the first full blown graduating class of Eton Preparatory School. Imagine what kind of doors that could open for his future. Eton is going to be the best school in all of the greater London area. I heard from Betsy Lockwood that they've started up the planning committee and designs are going to be released at the end of the year."

The man bit back a groan. Was she still on this? Their son, Adam, was only six years old. He wouldn't be allowed to attend boarding school for at least another three or four years. And that was only if he passed the entrance exams and was deemed emotionally mature enough to attend.

"Lilith, love," Crowley interrupted. "I think we may be getting a bit ahead of ourselves. The school won't even be completed for a few years and there's no guarantee he'll make it in once it has been built."

His wife looked at him in shock, the dark ringlets of hair framing her face bouncing up and down as her head shifted positions. "Of course, he will get in Anthony. He's _my _son. Adam is a brilliant boy. He won't have any issues passing those entrance exams."

Crowley frowned. "I'm not concerned about the entrance exams. The boy's been kicked out of three schools in the past year alone for behavioral issues. With that track record, I doubt they'd let him in no matter whose son he is."

The woman's eyes narrowed. Crowley waited patiently as his wife thought over his concerns, taking another quick sip from his cup of tea. At the corner of the table in front of them sat a plate full of finger sandwiches that were just out of the man's reach. Crowley could have grabbed one if he'd bothered to sit up and lean forward a few inches, but the man was comfortable. No snack, no matter how tempting, could get him to move when he was comfortable.

"Perhaps we could get him some sort of tutor," Lilith Crowley mused. "Someone to teach Adam his lessons here at home where he's more familiar with the environment. Until he's mature enough to attend school with the other children."

"You mean like a governess?"

Lilith Crowley's eyes shone. "Yes, that's exactly it. A governess. Excellent idea, Anthony! I shall put an advert in the paper tomorrow morning. We'll hold the interviews here and watch how their interactions with Adam go. Salary will be negotiable, of course, based on their credentials, and - "

Anthony tuned her out. There was no point in paying much attention now. Lilith would arrange all the details. All he had to do was show up whenever she asked him to. If he was lucky, he might get a say in who was ultimately chosen for the job, but if history was any indication, Lilith would do the choosing for him.

"Yes dear," he murmured after a lull in her speech, still eyeing the sandwiches that sat just beyond his reach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to shift around and grab one or two. Surely he'd be able to get comfortable again. "Splendid idea, as always."

Bugger it all. Crowley sat up and reached across the empty space between him and the food. He grabbed three of the small sandwiches for good measure, stuffing one into his mouth in a way that would make his wife balk if she'd been paying any attention. She wasn't. Smirking to himself, Crowley shifted back into the chair, anxiously awaiting the comfort it had provided him just moments ago.

Somehow, in the five seconds it had taken for the man to snag his snack, the chair had morphed into a harder, lumpier version of itself. No matter how he maneuvered, he couldn't quite get the damned thing to mold to his form like he wanted. The man scowled.

Bugger it all, indeed.

* * *

Ezra Fell went about his morning as he always did. He awoke at precisely 6:15 am and ambled into the kitchen twenty minutes later when he was fully shaved and dressed. There, he put the kettle on and made his way downstairs to the front stoop of the bookshop beneath his flat to grab that day's newspaper. By the time he made his way back up the stairs, the water was close to boiling and he poured himself a piping hot cup of English Breakfast Tea that he drank while reading that day's news.

There was nothing of particular interest going on in the world today, which meant Ezra got to open the bookshop earlier than normal. That was all well and good with him. Hardly anyone came into the shop this early in the morning, and if he opened early, he wouldn't feel guilty about closing early to go for a stroll before the sun got too low in the sky. The days were getting longer, bit by bit, but even the early days of springtime saw the night coming too quickly for Ezra's taste.

A.Z. Fell & Co. was an antique bookstore located in central Soho. It had first opened in 1842 when Ezra's grandfather had decided to turn his love of books into something he could share with other people. Ezra had been his favorite pupil and when dear old Alexander Fell had passed away, he'd left his pride and joy to Ezra.

He absolutely loved running the bookshop. Selling the books could be difficult, mostly because Ezra loved them all too much to ever wish to part with them. Most of the time, he tried to direct customers to tomes he had multiple copies of or ones that he knew weren't rare so much as they were just old. He sold enough of the books to make ends meet, and Ezra's quaint lifestyle didn't require much, so most days he spent cleaning and organizing rather than actively selling anything.

The best part about his job, however, were the children.

"Good Morning, Mr. Fell!" a bright voice called out to him as the bell jingled above the door. Ezra, who had been balancing atop a stepstool to place some of his most precious books on the top shelf in the back of the shop, quickly stepped down and bustled over to the door.

"Good morning, Miss Caroline. And Mr. Marcus. How are you two this fine spring morning?"

"We're good," the little boy answered, although the response sounded a bit more like 'Weah guht' as his tongue was currently preoccupied with wiggling a loose tooth back and forth.

"Mr. Fell?" Caroline asked, in a proper voice fit for a lady. Ezra smiled. At nine years old, she was shaping up to be quite the gentlewoman. "Will you be around this afternoon? After we are finished with school?"

The man smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in the morning light. "I would imagine so, Miss Caroline. Will you and your brother be stopping by for another visit? Perhaps we could read another chapter of Treasure Island together."

Caroline beamed, her auburn hair fluttering as a breeze blew in from the open window. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Fell."

"Do you have any biscuits?" Marcus asked, interrupting his sister, loose tooth momentarily forgotten. "Mum forgot to pack our breakfast."

Ezra nodded his head, then reached for the tin can he always kept well stocked by the front desk. Carefully, so not to damage a fingernail, he pried open the lid and held it down for the children too partake.

"Mother was awfully busy this morning," Caroline explained, grabbing three biscuits and tucking them into her dress pockets. "She's preparing for an interview this afternoon at Mr. Crowley's house."

Crowley. Where had Ezra heard that name before? He was almost sure it was not unknown to him, but he could not remember where he might have seen it.

"What is the interview for, my dear?" Ezra had never really interacted with their parents before. The children only ever came and visited on their way to and from school. They hardly stayed longer than an hour and always came and went on their own. Caroline and Marcus' mother knew this was where her children stopped each day and had apparently decided that a bookshop with a very friendly, somewhat flamboyant, single man in his late twenties was of no danger to her children, so she simply let them come and go as they pleased, so long as their schoolwork was completed on time and they didn't stay out after dark. Ezra didn't actually know what the Mr. or Mrs. did for a living.

"She said it was for a position as a tutor," Caroline explained as her brother stuffed the biscuit into his mouth all in one go. "Mr. Crowley has a young son who needs help in school. There was an advert in the paper this morning."

The clock outside chimed a quarter to eight. Knowing this was their signal to go, Caroline and Marcus bid the bookshop owner goodbye, promising they would be back later in the afternoon. Ezra smiled at them as they went, hanging by the front of the shop to wave at some of the other children as they wandered by, running too late to stop in and say hi on that particular day.

A tutoring position, Caroline had said. Ezra wondered what that would be like. Now that he'd had some time to think about it, he was pretty sure Mr. Crowley was in banking somehow. He recognized the name on one of the buildings he passed by in downtown London. The bookshop owner hadn't interacted much with people like Mr. Crowley in his lifetime. People like that lived for the finer things in life - multi story Victorian houses, brand new automobiles, fancy dining and expensive clothing. Ezra's life was mediocre by comparison.

Mediocre was perfectly acceptable in his eyes. He liked working at the bookshop very much, but part of Ezra was curious to hear about this new position. He'd never been employed as a tutor before, not officially, anyway. Ezra helped the local children with their schoolwork all the time when they came to visit, but he wasn't certified, and he'd certainly never been paid to do something of the sort.

Silently musing to himself, Ezra meandered back upstairs and looked through that morning's paper again. After a few turned pages, the man found what he was looking for.

_Tutor for hire. Must be available weekdays from 8am to 3pm and well versed in primary school topics of education. Pay negotiable, holidays and personal days included._

_Contact Mrs. Lilith Crowley for more details or to schedule an interview._

All in all, it looked like a decent opportunity. There was no information on the age of the child, but the mention of 'primary school' made Ezra think the boy was likely no older than eight or nine. Ezra tended to like children at that age, before they learned too much about the world and became cynical and unbelieving.

There was no reason he needed to apply for this job. Ezra had the bookshop and that had always been enough. Still, there was nothing wrong with trying something new. With those tutoring hours, he could even still be at the bookshop during the off hours when his visitors usually came. He could get paid to teach, wouldn't have to sell any books, and he would still be able to spend time imparting his love for literature on the young minds of central London.

Looking at the big picture, it seemed like a win-win situation. He would be a fool not to give it a try.


	2. Learning Through Play

This idea of theirs had been an absolute disaster.

That was what Crowley told himself as he interviewed the sixteenth candidate of the afternoon. _Oh, don't worry darling_, Lilith had said right before she slipped out the front door to attend an afternoon garden party at the Dowling's house. _It will be no trouble at all. You just have to ask them a few simple questions and introduce them to Adam. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. Ta-ta, now._

While she may have been right about the timeframe of most of the interviews, there was no way his wife had accounted for the sheer number of them. Even fifteen minute interviews lined up back to back could take _hours_ when there were so many. And each of these women were all the same. Most were young, impressionable. They glanced at the ground when they spoke to him and stuttered through their sentences. Occasionally, he came across one that was more experienced and knew how to address a man of his stature, but even then his optimism was short lived.

Adam hated them all. He started out by not speaking to any of them. He wouldn't even look at the first three women he was introduced to. Then the yelling started. During interview number seven, he screamed for ten minutes straight until Nanny Ashteroth got him a biscuit from the kitchen just to shut him up. After that, Crowley had stopped introducing most of them to his son, letting the boy simply play out in the backyard. Hopefully, if he ran himself out of energy, he wouldn't send the rest of the candidates running for the hills.

It was half an hour until dinner and Crowley was exhausted. He bid the last applicant a hasty goodbye and then flung himself down on the sitting room couch. It was hopeless. They were never going to find someone who would be able to handle his devilish child. Perhaps, in ten or so years Adam would grow out of it, but until then, Crowley was simply going to have to struggle just to stay afloat.

The doorbell rang. Crowley shut his eyes, knowing that one of his employees would get it. Hoping that if he pretended to be asleep, the visitor would be sent away. He couldn't deal with anymore interviews. Not today.

"Good evening," came the voice of Crowley's butler. "Can I be of some assistance?"

"Oh yes!" a voice answered back. "I'm here about the advertisement in the paper today. About the tutoring position. I called earlier and was told interviews were being held this afternoon."

Crowley sat up. That voice, though marginally higher pitched than his own, was distinctly male. Why had a man showed up to interview for a governess position? He was on his feet before he'd even realized what was going on.

"I'm so sorry to say," the butler began as Crowley made his way across the room toward the main hall, "but Mr. Crowley has had a very taxing day and will not be taking anymore - "

"That's quite alright, Eustace," Crowley interrupted, his hand finding its place by the doorframe. The butler moved aside and Crowley got his first good look at the man. He was on the younger side, likely in his late twenties, with white blonde hair that sat atop his head in a halo of curls. He was on the heavier side, not obese, but with a definite curve to him, and was dressed head to toe in a three piece tan suit - complete with tartan patterned bow tie.

The man smiled and his blue eyes shone with warmth. "Mr. Ezra Fell, at your service." Crowley eyed the hand being offered to him for a moment before reaching out to take it in his own. He was surprised at how smooth the man's skin felt against his own.

"Anthony Crowley. Please, come in."

He moved aside to let the stranger enter his home. The man removed his hat upon crossing the threshold and hung it gently on the coat rack, eyes darting around the foyer to admire the view. A hint of a smile appeared on Crowley's face. He was quite proud of this establishment. He and Lilith had picked it out together shortly after they'd gotten married. Crowley had just been made partner at the bank and the substantial raise he'd been given had burned a hole in his pocket faster than molten lava.

"This is a very lovely home you have, Mr. Crowley," the man praised. Crowley nodded his head, making a mental note of the polite way this man addressed him. Adam could learn manners such as these.

"Quite. Please, come sit down, Mr. Fell. I have a few questions for you."

Both men retired to the sitting room, Crowley choosing a seat on the couch where he'd laid moments before and Mr. Fell choosing the chair beside him. His blue eyes never once left Crowley's face.

"I'll admit," Crowley began, crossing one leg over the other and reclining into the couch, "I was surprised to hear your voice out there, Mr. Fell. I wouldn't have expected a man of your… well, any man to apply for this position."

A slight flush rose to the blonde's cheeks, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. In contrast to Crowley's relaxed demeanor, Mr. Fell sat upright, both feet on the floor his back barely brushing the chair's fabric behind him. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but commanded Crowley's attention all the same.

"Were you looking for a female to fill the role?" he asked curiously. "The advert simply stated you wanted a tutor. I'd be happy to be on my way if you'd prefer someone else."

Crowley held up a hand to stop him, a sudden curiosity coming to life in the back of his mind. "No, no need. To be quite honest, Mr. Fell, today has not gone as well as I would have liked. The candidates, for the most part, seemed to be qualified enough, but struck out with the kid."

The slightest of frowns made its way onto the man's face. "I'm sorry to hear that."

A snort. "Don't be. The brat can be a right demon when he wants to be."

"Oh, I hardly believe that," Mr. Fell was saying, momentarily forgetting his place. Crowley was about to open his mouth to offer a smart retort, but the man plowed along. "I'd imagine he's had a long day, what with all these strangers coming into his home and you being so very busy. He's probably just tired of it all."

Weren't they all? Crowley was surprised at this man's interpretations of his son's actions, especially after having never met the boy. He was excited to see how Adam would react to this individual, in a twisted sort of way. There was no way his son was going to give this man the time of day.

"So," Crowley began, launching himself back into the routine. "Tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Fell. How did you come to find yourself at my doorstep?"

"You see," a wide smile spread across the man's face and Crowley wondered if he'd perhaps asked too much of a loaded question to start off with. "I own an antique bookshop in Soho. It was left to me by my grandfather and in addition to selling books there, I assist some of the neighborhood children with their schoolwork. We read books together and I help them memories their number facts."

"I don't have any official credentials," he admitted, "but I'm rather good with children. How old is your boy now? The advert mentioned primary school."

"Adam is six," Crowley found himself answering, despite his list of growing questions. No official credentials? How was Crowley supposed to hire him without the proper paperwork? "He's been having a lot of trouble at school these days playing nicely with the other children. He's a distraction in class and since he won't sit still long enough to pay attention, he isn't absorbing any of the material."

"My wife and I," Crowley continued, brushing a hand through his flaming red hair, "thought a temporary in home tutor might be a better solution than him struggling in primary school. But so far - "

At that instant, the backdoor slammed and Crowley heard the unmistakable thumping of Adam's feet as he ran through the house.

"Dad!" the boy was practically screaming as he rounded the corner and raced down the hallway. "Dad, come see what I've made!"

"Not now, Adam," Crowley retorted, flashing an apologetic smile towards the man sitting across from him. "I'm busy."

"But daaaaad," the boy whined as he entered the room, completely ignoring the other man sitting down. "You said you'd come outside forever ago."

He'd said no such thing, but that didn't stop Adam from trying whatever tactic he could think of to get what he wanted. If Crowley wasn't careful, he'd be dealing with another meltdown. Already, the young boy appeared to have tears pooling in his hazel eyes and his brown hair was a matted mess, with leaves and twigs and such sticking out at various angles. What in the world had his son been doing outside? And why hadn't the Nanny put a stop to it? Lilith would be furious to find out that Adam had ruined yet another set of playclothes.

Crowley opened his mouth to tell his son to mind his manners when Mr. Fell spoke up.

"Would you mind showing me, Adam?" The kindness and sincerity in his voice touched Crowley in a way he wasn't expecting. "By the looks of you, you must have just finished battle with some great beast, or perhaps just finished a beautiful work of art. It sounds like something I shouldn't miss."

Anything would have been more expected than what Adam did next. Instead of ignoring the newcomer or throwing a temper tantrum, the boy smiled. Crowley was shocked. He hadn't seen Adam smile like that in weeks. Then, without a second thought, the little boy grabbed Mr. Fell by the hand and dragged him out of his seat and toward the back door.

_Now, listen here young man, _Crowley wanted to say, but he held himself back. This was more progress than he'd seen from any of the women all day. Not only had Mr. Fell been able to stop a surefire tantrum from beginning, but he'd actually managed to make the boy smile. Without another word, the man got up and followed his son outside.

Their yard was small as far as space went, but still generous compared to other homes in the central London area. There was a small patio for entertaining guests and a patch of immaculately kept green grass that went all the way up to a white picket fence blocking them off from their neighbors on both sides. At some point, Crowley planned on adding some creeping vines and various wildflowers to the area to help spruce it up a bit. For the meantime, it was adequate.

"Look!" Adam exclaimed happily as he gestured to a pile of sticks and pine cones towards the center of the lawn. "I made a tower."

The boy padded over to the structure. It only reached up to around his waist and looked as if it were about to topple over at any second, but Adam looked prouder of this than anything else he had accomplished so far in his short life. It was quite preposterous.

Against all his expectations, Crowley watched as Mr. Fell kneeled in the grass and exclaimed that Adam had made a very fine tower indeed. Crowley was ready to write him off then and there as another failure when the man did something to completely change his mind. He asked the boy a very simple question.

"How do you think we could make it taller?"

Adam frowned for a moment, clearly thinking through the question as hard as he could. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Everytime I try, it falls down."

Mr. Fell nodded, putting on a puzzled expression similar to that of the young boy standing beside him. "Where does it usually start breaking?"

Adam immediately pointed to the base of the structure where only a handful of pinecones sat supporting the rest of the structure.

"Excellent work, my dear," Mr. Fell praised, moving his hand to point something out to Adam. "You see, buildings like these that you want to make really tall need to have a solid base. Do you know what solid means?"

Adam shook his head.

"Solid means tough. The base has to be strong enough to hold up the other pieces. Do you think you and I could rearrange some of this to make the bottom a bit bigger? That way it would be able to hold up a higher tower."

Crowley watched in amazement as Adam willingly worked with Mr. Fell. The pair were playing, but...teaching and learning at the same time. He'd never seen anything like it, but whatever the man was doing was obviously working. Adam was overjoyed when they'd put the last stick at the top and it reached up to just over the tip of his head.

"Did you see that, Dad?" the boy cheered, racing a loop around the yard, unable to contain his excitement. "We made it so much taller! By making the bottom part super strong."

The man's eyebrows raised as he glanced down at this stranger who had somehow connected with the insanity that was his son. Mr. Fell slowly got to his feet and flashed Crowley a shy smile, brushing the grass off his knees.

"Adam, come here a moment. I have an important question I need to ask you."

The young boy zoomed over to Crowley, coming to a halt when the man held out his hand against the head full of curls. Mr. Fell looked over at the two, a soft smile on his rounded face. Crowley found that he liked that smile almost as much as he liked Adam's.

"Would you like for Mr. Fell to come back some time and teach you some other new things?"

The boy's eyes widened. "Really?" he sounded beyond excited. Crowley could use this to his advantage.

"If you do as you're told for the rest of this week. Now go wash up. The adults need to talk."

Adam made his way back into the kitchen, walking for once instead of running, although Crowley could tell that he desperately wanted to. So the boy had some self-control after all. Interesting.

"You have a wonderful son," Mr. Fell said as soon as the boy was out of earshot. "He's quite bright for his age."

Crowley scoffed. "A little too bright for his age, if you ask me." This elicited a chuckle from the man with the golden hair. Crowley found himself smiling at the sound.

"The job is yours, without question, if you want it." Crowley didn't even need to confer with Lilith on this one. He didn't know how she would feel about hiring a male governess, but Crowley was convinced that it had to be Mr. Fell. There was no one else who would be able to help them help Adam get his attitude in line or learn enough to get into a good school.

Mr. Fell beamed. "When do I start?"

Crowley laughed. The man's enthusiasm was contagious. "Is Monday too soon?"

"Not soon enough, I'd reckon."


	3. The Final Straw

Adam Crowley was a difficult child, but Ezra was nothing if not determined. After a few weeks of working for the Crowley's, the man was able to get Adam into a sort of routine that usually worked to keep the boy in line, at least while Ezra was there. He always let Adam pick their activities. That was the key. Give the boy a choice and he would be much better behaved. If you convinced him that _he_ was the one who had thought it up, there was no reason for him to fight back.

Of course, Ezra always gave him a list of activities to pick from each day. And they had to accomplish all of them before he was allowed free time to do what he wanted to do. Most of the time, Adam finished them by lunch or shortly thereafter and Ezra allowed him to play outside or took him to the park if the weather was nice. He was always amenable to whatever Adam wanted to do, and Adam loved the park.

He loved any activity that involved using his hands. Counting money, digging for fake dinosaur bones, finger painting. Anything that let him get some sort of mess all over his clothes was an instant success in Adam's book. Ezra tried to keep the messes to a minimum, but Adam was an energetic child. It wasn't always easy.

Ezra had been shocked to find out that the boy's least favorite activity had been reading. He would have assumed, with an imagination like Adam's, that the boy would be devouring books left and right. It had taken him nearly a week to figure out why the boy grew upset every time Ezra asked him to read. The Crowley household didn't have any children's books. Not a single one.

Well, that could be easily remedied. The day after making his discovery, Ezra showed up to the Crowley household with a crate full of books. Adam hadn't wanted to leave his bedroom all morning.

Most days, Ezra stopped to get breakfast on his way to the Crowley's household. There was a little bakery on his route that sold the most scrumptious raspberry scones that Ezra simply adored. Sometimes, if it looked like rain was on the horizon, he would pick Adam up a special treat. Rainy days meant no playing outside and the boy was more likely to throw a fit. Usually, Ezra could curb the destruction that followed in Adam's wake with the promise of a tasty treat.

It looked like rain today, so Ezra stopped to grab two treats and abstained from eating his during the rest of the walk. He would wait and enjoy the pastry with his young charge.

The moment Ezra walked through the front doors of the Crowley household, he knew today was going to be a bad day. His first clue had been the high pitched screaming that had hit his ears the moment the door had opened. How had he not heard Adam from further down the steps? Rather, how had all of London not heard Adam? He was certainly screaming loud enough.

Mrs. Crowley was standing in the center of the foyer wearing a pastel pink dress that hung below her knees, elegant white high heeled shoes and a pair of white satin gloves. The only thing she was missing from her attire was a pale wide brimmed hat and she would be ready for an afternoon garden party, which seemed strange to Ezra, as he was fairly certain it would start raining within the hour.

"Adam Crowley, you get down here this instant!" The woman was shouting up the stairs. Ezra couldn't see Adam on the stairs or anywhere on the second floor balcony, but the screaming was coming from somewhere up there, so the boy couldn't be far. "You are attending this party with me and you will behave yourself or so help me I will lock you in your bedroom for a week young man!"

Ezra started. Surely that was a bit harsh. And what was this about a party? Wasn't Adam supposed to attend his lessons today?

More screaming ensued followed by a loud crashing sound and more shouting, this time coming from upstairs. Nanny Ashteroth must be trying to wrangle him up. Ezra watched, trying to stifle his smile as the young boy raced across the front hall from one side of the house to the other, bypassing the staircase completely. He wore only a pair of underwear and nothing else. That particular article of clothing also appeared to be sitting on his head.

A few steps behind him ran the nanny. Her usual hair, so elegantly pinned up and out of her face was falling down in wide chunks, obscuring her vision as she raced after the boy. The woman reached him just as Adam lifted a hand to open one of the bedroom doors.

Quicker than Ezra could blink, the nanny had wrapped her arms firmly around Adam's waist and hauled him, kicking and screaming into the air. The boy twisted wildly in her grasp, but the woman was stronger than she looked. Adam had no chance of escape.

Somehow, the boy seemed to realize this. Instead of giving up like he probably should have, Adam did what any child, dead set against going somewhere, with an adults arms wrapped around him dragging him toward the thing he didn't want to do.

He bit down. Hard.

Nanny Ashteroth shrieked and dropped Adam like the boy was suddenly made from pure fire. He landed on his feet and wasted no time in racing back down the hallway and out of sight. Moments later, a door slammed.

"That is it!" Nanny Ashteroth shouted, clutching the spot on her arm where Adam had maimed her. Had he bitten down hard enough to draw blood? It was hard for Ezra to tell from down here. "I am done dealing with this demonic child. He's gone too far this time."

"Please, Nanny," Mrs. Crowley whined, "reconsider. We can give you a raise. How does 10 percent sound? Fifteen?"

The woman stalked down the stairs, fire in her eyes. "No amount of money could make me want to risk my own well being, Mrs. Crowley. Consider this my formal resignation. I will have all of my things out within the hour. Good day!"

She hastily brushed past Ezra, most likely heading down the street to find a public telephone with which she could call herself a ride. The man wondered where she might go, as he was under the impression that Nanny Ashteroth was a live in nanny for Adam. Perhaps she would phone a family member to help her get things sorted out.

Ezra winced as the door slammed behind him, then turned to look at Mrs. Crowley apprehensively. The woman had yet to acknowledge his presence, though he didnt blame her. She must be having a rough day.

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked, harsher than Ezra would have expected. He let the tone slide, sure she would have been much more welcoming given different circumstances.

"I'm here for Adam's lessons. It is Thursday after all."

The woman stared at him blankly for a moment before speaking again. "Did Anthony not tell you?"

Ezra frowned. He hadn't heard much from Mr. Crowley all week except for a few pleasantries here and there. The man hadn't mentioned anything specific about today that would make it any different than any other day. Perhaps he had forgotten.

The woman grimaced, letting out a soft huff. "Honestly, the man can't even handle the simplest of requests sometimes." She then turned her attention to Ezra and flashed him a sickly sweet smile. "Adam won't be attending his lessons today. I have a very important event to attend today and Anthony is feeling a bit...under the weather. It was supposed to be Nanny Ashteroth's evening off but now…" she trailed off for a moment, brown eyes staring out the door behind him. "Either way, " she continued, pulling herself together. "No one will be home this evening to watch Adam, so unfortunately he has to come with me."

Ezra's stomach churned unpleasantly. He could see how Adam would be less than ecstatic to spend the entire day at some adult function. Especially when Ezra had promised the boy they would learn about the solar system today.

Taking a deep breath the man addressed his employer. "I could stay late today and watch Adam for you, if you'd like."

She eyed him cautiously, as if she couldn't fathom how he could want to spend any more time than necessary with her son. "Very well," she replied, already switching her focus to gathering up her things. "Dinner is at 6pm. Make sure he's in bed by 8. Anthony is upstairs in bed, so don't expect any help from him."

Ezra bid her a fond farewell. Mrs. Crowley simply waved in return before the door shut behind her. Sighing, the man looked up toward the stop of the stairs where Adam was mysteriously quiet. That probably wasn't a good sign.

One step after another, Ezra made his way up the staircase toward the young boy who was certainly hiding up here somewhere. The man hadn't spent much time on the second floor of the Crowley household. Most of their lessons either took place in the library or living room, with the occasional trip outside. Every once in a while, Ezra took Adam up to his room to grab a book to read, so he knew which door lead there. It was as good as any a place to start.

"Adam?" The man called quietly, leaning his forehead against the stained mahogany. "Adam, my dear, are you in there. It's Mr. Fell."

He heard a quiet sniffle and breathed a sigh of relief. "Adam, can you let me inside? I'm not here to scold you, I just want to talk."

Slowly, the door opened and Ezra found himself looking down at a partially clothed six year old boy that had tear stains on his cheeks. The man felt his heart fracture slightly at the sight. Gently, he squatted down until the boy was at eye level.

"What's wrong, dear boy?" Ezra asked softly, not wanting to upset the boy further.

"I don't wanna go," Adam sniffed quietly, wiping his eyes with the backs of his tiny hands.

"And why is that, Adam? Why is it you want to stay here today, hm?"

The boy looked up at Ezra, his hazel eyes wide and oh so sad. "Daddy's sick today. I want to stay and make him feel better."

The sweetness of it all nearly broke Ezra's heart. He held out his arms and the boy surprisingly returned his hug. They had never done this before and Ezra was touched that the child trusted him enough to embrace him in such a way.

"Well," Ezra stated matter-of-factly once the boy had dried his tears. "We must think up some clever ways to help make your father feel better, mustn't we? Shall we adjourn to the library to start brainstorming ideas."

Adam grinned and slipped his hand easily into Ezra's. Without a second thought he lead the man down the stairs and into the library to begin their day's worth of hard work.


	4. The Demons of War

**A/N: Hey guys! If you've made it this far, let me know how you're liking the story. I have the whole thing written and will be uploading it bit by bit as I can.**

* * *

There were flashes of light all around him, bright and blinding and altogether terrifying. Deafening cracks were sounding in the air accompanying the bright lights, but he stopped being able to hear them a long time ago. No sound was able to pierce through the deafening rush of adrenaline through his ears. He could barely breathe through the stench of gunpowder and blood and death all around him. It was a literal hell on earth.

A gun lay in his hands, shaking unsteadily as the man tried to get a grip. He needed to breathe first. In. Out. In out. Don't pay attention to the exploding earth. Don't pay attention to the bullets flying through the air. Don't pay attention to the piles of dead soldiers all around. Just breathe.

He'd been in this battle for an eternity. He had been born here and he was going to die here and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. Countless numbers of his friends and comrades had been slain - gunned down like pheasants on a summer's afternoon.

If he ever got out of this alive, he would never go hunting again.

Flies buzzed around his face as the man slid down the muddy wall of the trench and began running. People were shouting left and right and he couldn't hear them. It was as if they were speaking a different language. Even if he could have somehow understood, the man doubted he would have listened. He needed to get out of here. If he didn't, he would be trapped here forever in this neverending nightmare.

Earth shifted above him and soil began raining down. The man lifted an arm to shield his face, but it was too late for that. The dirt poured over the edge of the trench, filling it like water, making it impossible for him to forge his way through. The soil reached his waist and then his chest and then it was up to his neck. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He was going to die here - buried alive- without ever having the chance to -

Crowley bolted up in his bed, shaking violently and gasping for breath, the ghost of a scream dying in his throat. He was drenched from head to toe and his red hair was plastered to his forehead, making it more difficult to see. Not that it would have been much easier without the obstacle there. The bedroom was pitch black. What time was it? He could barely remember the previous day's events. Had he slept all day? Longer? He had no idea.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Crowley tensed. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that there was no reason to believe that soft pattering was anything remotely related to gunfire. He was in his home in London. Crowley was completely safe. He wasn't dying. Eyes squeezed shut, he willed the sound away. He was fine. He was safe in his bed. There was nothing to fear.

The door opened slowly and the sound stopped momentarily. Crowley's body was still shaking and he found it suddenly impossible to open his eyes again. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Crowley took in deep, shattering breaths, desperately trying to calm himself down.

"Mr. Crowley?" A familiar voice sounded from the doorway. Crowley grimaced. He'd thought the nightmare to be over, but he was still hallucinating. How else could he explain the presence of Mr. Fell in his doorway this late at night? And dressed in a pair of baby blue silk pajamas and a tartan robe.

Pajamas and robe? Crowley blinked. When had he opened his eyes? More importantly, what was Mr. Fell doing here late at night? What time _was _it?

He felt sick to his stomach.

"Mr. Crowley, are you alright?" The man sounded sick with worry. "I heard screaming from the room down the hall. Do you need something? A glass of water, perhaps?"

It was all he could do to nod his head, not really comprehending what he was agreeing to. His brain was still trying to figure out how his son's tutor was here so late at night. The man should have gone home hours ago. It didn't make any sense.

Mr. Fell disappeared from the doorway and Crowley found himself nearly crying out to stop him. The room was suddenly so dark and large and empty. He shivered from the cold, acutely aware that his night clothes would have to be removed eventually. That would require getting out of bed, and right now Crowley was pretty sure he didn't have the leg strength.

Moments later, the man returned and Crowley could breathe a little easier. He set a glass of water on the nightstand and hovered expectantly at the foot of the bed. Crowley gazed up at him a moment longer, noting how the light flooding in from the hallway illuminated his golden curls like a halo.

Crowley reached for the glass, which in his current state was probably not the best move. As he lifted it off the table, his hand gave a violent spasm and nearly half the water sloshed out onto the floor. The only thing that kept Crowley from spilling the entire glass on himself was Mr. Fell's sudden presence beside him, soft hand resting gently over his own to steady him.

"Easy now," the man guided. Crowley should have felt embarrassed or irritated that this stranger had invaded his privacy so easily, but the man only felt relief. He closed his eyes and took a long drink.

When he opened his eyes once more, Crowley found himself staring face to face with Mr. Fell. The man had concern written all over him. It was practically pouring out of his pale blue eyes. Crowley found that he could not look away.

"Should I wake the Mrs?" The man asked gently, hand still holding Crowley's steadily in place so he didn't drop the cup. "Perhaps she could be of some assistance."

"No," Crowley rasped, finally finding a piece of his voice. "Mrs. Crowley is not to be disturbed for one of my...episodes. She needs to be well rested." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but Crowley choked the feeling down. When was the last time Lilith had comforted him in bed like this? When was the last time he'd been allowed to sleep in his own bed with his wife? She'd banished him up here an eternity ago when it became obvious that his night terrors weren't going away anytime soon.

Tears pricked at his eyes and Crowley angrily blinked them away, suddenly very self conscious about how he must look to this man standing beside him. Pathetic. Weak. A sliver of a human being.

"Leave." Crowley's hoarse whisper seemed to fill the room like a roar. He felt the man stiffen beside him, breath catching in his throat.

"Are you sure I can't -"

"Leave," he requested again, more firmly this time. With one last lingering gaze, Mr. Fell obliged. Like a ghost, he seemed to vanish into the darkness and Crowley was left alone with his demons once more.

* * *

Ezra remained there with his back pressed up against the door to Mr. Crowley's room for what felt like century. He was shaking and tears were threatening to pour from his eyes but the sheer force of Ezra's will held them back. He would not cry. What right did he, of all people, have to be upset?

The look on Mr. Crowley's face when he'd entered the room was one of absolute horror and anguish. Ezra had seen the look before, on countless men's faces each and every day. It accompanied every loud crash, every flash of bright headlights, every car backfiring. The whole nation, it seemed, was battling demons in plain sight, yet no one was opening their eyes to see it.

He had not fought in the war. Ezra had been just shy of his eighteenth birthday when the fighting had started. Every eligible man he knew had signed up to fight. Even if he had been of age, he would never have been admitted. At the age of ten, the man had suffered a rather nasty fall from a tree. The incident had left him with a leg fractured in multiple places that had needed a brace for over a year before it healed. Ezra had been able to walk again after that, but barely anything else. After nearly twenty years, he still couldn't climb or run or swim without experiencing pain.

That had given him a reason not to fight, and as cowardly as it may seem, Ezra was grateful. He was not a fighter - he had never been a fighter. Yes, he had done the best he could helping out with the war effort, mostly volunteering in hospitals, but he hadn't been on the frontline. He hadn't seen the horrors those men had experienced. He didn't understand what men like Anthony Crowley were going through now that the war had been won, but their demons still lingered.

Ezra took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. A light tingling sensation was still hovering at the edge of his fingertips where his hand had brushed Mr. Crowley's. Ezra clutched his hand close to his heart, tears finally falling across his cheeks.

Was this what Adam had meant earlier that day when he'd said his father was sick? How much had the boy seen? Did he understand what was happening to his father? Or were the people around him refusing to explain?

Ezra wanted to help. There had to be something he could do to help the family. Adam was such a sweet boy the majority of the time. He had a good heart and didn't deserve to witness his father suffering in this way. But what could be done? Ezra was a bookseller and a tutor, not a psychologist or a doctor. He didn't know how to fix what had been broken, and based on what had happened tonight, Mr. Crowley wasn't about to let him get close enough to try.

Perhaps he should simply stick to the boy's lessons. That was what he was being paid for, after all. Ezra had stepped up today to care for Adam as his nanny would have, but he assumed that position was to be short-lived. The Crowley's would find another nanny soon enough, and Ezra would be back to teaching lessons about stars and bugs and the differences between a farthing and a shilling.

"Please," he whispered to anyone who might be listening. "Let him sleep tonight. He is a kind man, I just know it. He doesn't deserve to be haunted by these memories. Please, give him peace tonight."

Without another word, Ezra Fell glided down the hall, returning to his temporary bedroom in the Crowley household and tried not to dwell too much on the sorrow that had crept inside his heart.


	5. A Dinner to Remember

"Alright Adam, it's almost time. Do you remember what you have to do?"

Ezra looked down at the young boy dressed in black pants, a matching vest, and a dark green bowtie. He was standing by the front door, grinning from ear to ear as he looked back up at Ezra. For once, the boy's hair had been combed to the side, making him look like a small gentleman instead of the wild child he was at heart.

"I get to open the door when the bell rings!" Adam announced proudly, placing his hands on his hips in a triumphant manner. Ezra laughed. It had been his idea to dress Adam up and give him something productive to do that evening. The Crowley's were throwing a dinner party for some of their friends and Mrs. Crowley had requested that Ezra keep the boy out of her hair. What better way to do that than give him something important to occupy his time?

It had been nearly a week since Nanny Ashteroth had quit and the Crowley's were nowhere near finding a replacement. Now that he knew, somewhat, some of the difficulties the family was dealing with, Ezra had volunteered to move in temporarily to help care for Adam until they could find someone more suitable. In a surprising turn of events, Mrs. Crowley had been extremely supportive of the idea, claiming that Ezra had a way with the boy that was unlike any she'd seen.

Mr. Crowley had said nothing at all. Ezra supposed this could be considered a good thing. The last time the two men had spoken, he'd been all but thrown from the room. If Mr. Crowley had no objections to Ezra caring for his son, the man supposed that would have to be good enough for him.

"And what do you say to our guests when they enter?" Ezra prompted, sure the boy would remember. They'd practiced nearly all morning.

"Good Evening, Sir or Madame. Thank you for coming to our party. Would it be alright with you if my assistant took your coat?"

Ezra beamed. "Excellent work, Adam. You'll make a fine butler one day."

The boy giggled. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else when the doorbell rang. Ezra snapped to attention, placing a pretend serious look on his face. Adam grinned, then stepped forward to pull the door open.

"Good Evening, Sir _and _Madame," the boy began once his eyes focused on the couple standing in front of him. Ezra felt his heart swell with pride as he noticed Adam adapt to the situation at hand instead of reciting word for word what they had practiced. He was such a smart lad! "Thank you for coming to your party. Would it be alright with you if my assistant took your coats?"

The couple looked over at Ezra and smiled. The woman, especially, looked very touched by the young boy standing in front of her.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, shrugging her coat off and handing it to her husband who then passed both off to Ezra. "You must be Adam. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mrs. Dowling and this here is my husband, Mr. Dowling."

Ezra turned his back on the couple momentarily as he gently hung the coats on the rack behind him. Adam was polite with his response and directed the couple where to go, as they were the first ones here.

"Excellent job, my dear," Ezra praised as the Dowlings made their way to the gathering room toward the back of the house. Adam beamed, then jolted to attention as the doorbell sounded again.

They spent the next thirty minutes manning the front door as people began to file into the house. Many of the guests greeted them energetically and took a little bit of their time to stop and talk to Adam. The boy seemed to be eating up all the attention. It would have been nearly impossible to wipe the smile off his face.

Only one guest bothered to ask Ezra his name. The man really didn't mind. This event was for the Crowleys, and he was simply here to help. He assumed most of the guests thought he was employed as a butler or waiter for the Crowleys, which wouldn't have been far off base. He was a simple man compared to the rest of them, and that was nothing to get worked up over.

The woman in question was young, at least half a decade younger than he was, with soft brown hair and bright green eyes that were brought out by the color of her dress. She smiled shyly up at him as she handed over her coat and then said: "I don't know that I've seen you here before. Might I ask your name, good sir?"

She was kind and polite and Ezra couldn't help but smile back. "Ezra Fell, at your service, Madame. I am young Master Crowley's tutor by day and coat attendant by night."

This elicited a giggle from the girl. Her parents, the Youngs, had already spotted some of their friends and made their way through the house to converse. Instead of following them, she hung back, extending her gloved hand for Ezra to take.

"Sarah Young," she introduced as Ezra reached out to shake her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fell. I do hope we see more of each other this evening."

"Likewise, Miss Young," Ezra responded, smiling as she walked away to join the others. Ezra looked down at Adam, who stood by the door still, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. Glancing up, Ezra scanned the people nearby, looking for Mrs. Crowley. Had all her expected guests arrived? The party was scheduled to begin around 6pm with dinner being served at 7pm. It was now twenty til 7, which probably meant everyone was here, but there was always the chance of stragglers.

Almost of their own accord, Ezra's blue eyes slid across the people gathered in the sitting room and landed on a tall figure with dark red hair and bright amber eyes. Sensing Ezra's eyes on him, Mr. Crowley looked up and locked gazes with him. Ezra's heart began to race unexpectedly as the man wrapped up whatever conversation he'd been having and began to walk towards them.

"Thank you, Mr. Fell, for staying," Mr. Crowley murmured as he stopped beside his son. Ezra's eyes flickered from the man's face down to the half filled glass of red wine in his hands. "And you, Adam, for helping greet all our guests. You did well."

Adam beamed at the praise and Ezra had to struggle not to do the same. The man looked well, considering he had spent several days the previous week unable to get out of bed. He'd shaved since the last time Ezra had seen him and his hair was combed away from his eyes. Standing side by side, he could see the family resemblance. Adam was shorter, naturally, and had curlier hair that was more brown in color than red. But there were plenty of similarities. They had the same nose, the same crinkle in the corner of their eyes when they smiled.

"Feel free to take Adam to the kitchen to grab some dinner," Mr. Crowley said, addressing Ezra once more. "Lilith told me everyone is here and accounted for, so you may abandon your post if you wish."

Ezra nodded, gesturing to Adam that he could walk, not run, walk towards the kitchen to get his food. "Very well then." He turned to walk away, but was stopped when the man spoke again.

"Mr. Fell?" Ezra turned to face him. "Feel free to join us for dinner, once you've taken care of Adam. I'll save you a seat if you wish."

The man smiled, warmth blossoming in his chest. "I would like that very much, Mr. Crowley. Thank you." The man simply nodded his head and turned back to where his guests were gathering. Ezra made his way to the kitchen where Adam had already pulled himself up onto one of the chairs and was happily digging into his meal of herbed chicken and fingerling potatoes.

"Ah," teased Ezra, "no vegetables I see."

Adam wrinkled his nose in protest. "Potatoes are vegetables."

Ezra laughed. A clever boy indeed. "Yes, I suppose you are right. I should have been more specific in describing the color. You've no _green_ vegetables on your plate." Adam's face fell momentarily. Ezra simply shook his head, warmth still humming in his chest. How he enjoyed spending time with this boy. "I'll let it slide for tonight if you promise to go right to bed once you've finished."

"Yes, Mr. Fell." Ezra took a seat next to him and waited patiently for Adam to finish. He could hear the buzzing of conversation in the adjacent rooms and wondered what people talked about for so long. This was a class of people entirely different than what he was used to. These people worked but didn't have to, bought automobiles for fun weekend drives, and could purchase tickets for a show at the West End and a new outfit to go along with it on a whim. Ezra knew he would never be like them, and he was perfectly alright with that knowledge. Still, it was fascinating to be around them and simply observe.

Adam was true to his word and went to bed without a fuss. He even asked Ezra to skip the story for the evening so that the man wouldn't miss dinner. Ezra was touched by the child's thoughtfulness and promised to read him twice as many stories the next day.

Once the lights in Adam's room were turned off and the door closed tightly behind him, Ezra made his way down to the dining room where people had begun to gather. All in all, there were approximately twenty people in attendance, seated at various places around the table. A single seat in between Sarah Young and another young gentleman had been left wide open. Ezra nodded his head in thanks at Mr. Crowley, sitting at the head of the table, and made his way quickly to his seat, just in time for the first course to be served.

The food was divine, and Ezra ate up every bite. Conversation during the first part of the evening seemed to continue on from the evening's preamble - people catching up on events in their lives, talking about the recent events in the city. Ezra spent most of this time in conversation with the youthful Miss Young. She seemed very interested in learning more about him, and the man was happy to oblige.

"So what prompted you to leave the bookshop and come work for the Crowley's full time?" she asked as the main course was being passed out. Ezra breathed in the heavenly scents of roasted vegetables and lemon and thyme dusted chicken. He could feel his stomach growling in anticipation.

"I was looking for a bit of a change, I suppose," Ezra responded, wanting to take a bite of the food that had been placed before him, but feeling it would be rude to do so before he had finished answering the young lady's question. "The bookshop is wonderful, and I do miss it terribly sometimes, but I've found that I rather enjoy my work here for the time being. Adam is a lovely boy."

Sarah smiled. "You really are quite wonderful with him. Mrs. Crowley has told my parents and I quite a number of stories. I hardly recognized the boy when I walked in earlier this evening."

If he were being honest with himself, Ezra felt like he hadn't done much to gain Adam's respect and trust. That first day that they'd met, all he had to do was show a little interest in what Adam had been saying and the boy had been completely taken with him. Adam was an only child, and his parents, as wonderful as they may be, had their own priorities that often took precedence over Adam. Ezra had simply given the boy someone who would pay attention to him and put his needs before their own.

Ezra glanced down the table, his attention immediately drawn to Mr. Crowley. The man was currently in deep conversation with an older gentleman sitting beside him. From this distance, there was no way to tell what was being said, but for the first time in a while, Ezra thought the red haired man looked engaged in his surroundings. He was leaning forward a bit, eyes attentive as the other man spoke, his right hand curling around his wine glass that one of the waiters refilled as he walked by.

Without missing a beat, Mr. Crowley lifted the glass to his lips and downed nearly the entire thing. So, it was to be that sort of party. Ezra enjoyed his alcohol like the rest, but the thought of getting totally tossed at his employer's party was too nerve wracking. He would make sure to watch himself.

"Adam's a good boy," Ezra continued, turning his attention back to the young woman sitting beside him. "He just needs a bit of direction and someone to lend him a listening ear."

Sarah smiled and Ezra took the opportunity to dig into his meal. The food was as delicious as he'd imagined it to be. Ezra had said before that he didn't mind where life had put him, but he recognized being wealthy had its advantages. Imagine being able to eat like this every day.

"Now you lis'n here!" Mr. Crowley's drunken slur floated down the table some time later. They were on the dessert course now - an exquisite looking pineapple upside down cake. "I's not right...to be goin' about seeing _plays_ and reading _books_ and the like, all the while pretending none of it err happen'd."

Ezra turned to face the head of the table once more. Mr. Crowley was still engaged in conversation with the man to his left, but he seemed to be talking loudly enough to address the host of guests that had taken a seat at his table. Mrs. Crowley looked simply mortified.

"Anthony, dear," she tried, placing a hand on his forearm. "Now is not the time for this."

He shoved her off, banging his hand on the table. All chatter in the room died, eyes turning to the master of the house.

"Twelve years ago, an Archduke was shot," Mr. Crowley pointed out, sweeping his amber eyes around the room. Ezra felt the breath leave his chest when they came to rest on his face. "An then!" the man was shouting again. "An then, the next thing we know...ten _million_ non-archdukes are shot, and for what? So you all can go about your lives findin' ways to ignore an' forget."

He slammed his palm down on the table again, eliciting jumps from several of the guests nearest to him. Amber eyes were still fixed on Ezra and the man found he could not look away. He had seen this look in Mr. Crowley's eyes before. The anguish tore at him, threatening to devour him alive. Ezra could see that the pain was dulled, likely as a result of the alcohol currently flooding Mr. Crowley's body, but it was still there, shining through the amber pools.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to have a good time, old chap," the man beside him pointed out, slapping Mr. Crowley's back affectionately. Ezra could see the man's body tense as he turned his attention to the companion behind him.

"If you stop thinkin' about a thing, it ceases to exist. The moment you _forget_, you've lost, hav'n ya? 'Cuz as soon as you forget, well it'll just happen all over again, won't it?"

He was standing at this point. Ezra hadn't noticed him move at all, he'd been too enraptured by the man's face - how it shone with emotion, how his amber eyes blazed in the lamplight. At some point during his speech, Mr. Crowley had risen from his chair, hand angrily gripping the back of it.

"Nothin' ta stop us from making the same damn choices to the same damn end!" The man threw the chair down against the floor. The force of the impact toppled several glasses, spilling wine over fancy tablecloths and pants and dresses. One of the waiters was startled enough to drop the tray of cake on the floor, spreading icing and sickly sweet pineapple juices all over the hardwood.

Mrs. Crowley was on her feet in an instant, waving the servers around to clean up the mess and apologizing profusely to her guests for her husband's outburst. 'He's not well,' she was saying. 'He didn't mean any of it, he just had a bit too much to drink'.

Ezra watched as Mr. Crowley stumbled out the door. He could barely keep himself upright on both feet. Without realizing he'd done it, Ezra got up from his chair and hurried out the other door and around the hallway to catch up with him, grabbing him just as the man was about to faceplant into the corner of the kitchen counter.

They barely had a moment to breathe before Mrs. Crowley came rushing into the room, slamming the door behind her.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted at her husband, completely ignoring Ezra's presence. The shorter of the two men tried to brace himself. Holding up a full grown adult's weight was not easy, no matter how thin Mr. Crowley looked. Finally grasping onto some semblance of awareness, the man steadied himself and stood up, turning to face his wife.

"I want them out of my house." It must have taken all his willpower just to say those words, because they sounded nearly sober.

Mrs. Crowley's brown eyes darkened. "How _dare_ you. This is my house. My party. How dare you make a fool out of my in front of my friends! How dare you ask that they leave! That is not your call to make, Anthony!"

The whole atmosphere in the room changed and it made Ezra suddenly want to run. He didn't know where to. Anywhere would have been better than where he was right now. "Get them out of this house, Lilith, or I will throw them out myself. Every last one of them."

To her credit, Mrs. Crowley held her ground. "We are not finished with this conversation." She strode back into the dining room, door swinging shut behind her. Ezra reached an arm out to steady Mr. Crowley as he hobbled over to the nearest chair and sat down, eyes glazing over for a brief moment.

"Get me a drink," he mumbled much quieter than before. Ezra stiffened. He wasn't entirely sure how much Mr. Crowley had already ingested, but he was pretty sure that giving him more alcohol would do permanent damage. Instead, Ezra grabbed an empty wine glass from the counter beside him and filled it up with water. As he suspected, Mr. Crowley took no notice.

Footsteps could be heard as the guests made their way to the front door. Apparently, Mrs. Crowley had decided not to fight her husband over his request. Was she worried about how he would react if she did? Had she decided the fight simply wasn't worth it? Had her friends decided to leave on their own, upset by the man's sudden outburst?

In a few minutes, they were all gone. Mrs. Crowley returned to the kitchen and stared down at her husband, a cold fury hanging about her.

"I can't do this anymore, Anthony," she stated. Ezra suddenly felt like he shouldn't be here. This was a conversation that husband and wife should be having on their own, but the husband was currently shit-faced and likely wouldn't remember tonight's events and the wife looked like she was about to walk out the front door and never come back.

"I am sick of your whining and your complaining and your refusal to move on with your life. This pathetic excuse of a man is not what I signed up for when I married you. I'm going to my sister's. Don't bother calling."

With that, Mrs. Crowley stalked off, heading straight for the front door. Ezra wondered, briefly, if she was going to pack her own things before she left or if she'd order someone else to do it for her. His heart went out to the man sitting in the room with him, but Mr. Crowley didn't seem to comprehend what was going on. He sat motionless on that chair, hands folded neatly together, eyes staring off at nothing.

"I'll send someone over to gather my things!"

Well that answered that question. Ezra watched to see if Mr. Crowley would do anything, but he remained as still as a statue. If it weren't for the rising and falling of his chest, the man would have assumed he was dead.

Mr. Crowley didn't even flinch as his wife rushed outside, the front door slamming shut behind her.


	6. Too Much of an Angel

Mr. Crowley was much heavier than he looked.

After the disastrous dinner party that had ended with spilled wine, a wasted dessert, and Mr. Crowley's wife completely walking out on him, Ezra had been left alone with the man. The rest of the staff were working to clean up what was leftover from the party and seemed to be completely ignoring the head of their household who still sat in the kitchen, staring off into nothing.

Ezra tried to let Mr. Crowley have a moment or two or three to gather himself, but eventually he decided that enough was enough. The man needed to get some rest and the only way for him to do that was for Ezra to help him to his room.

"Mr. Crowley, sir?" he'd murmured softly, kneeling down to look the man in the eyes. He remembered how Mr. Crowley had blinked a few times, his vision finally focusing on Ezra's face. "Would you like some help getting upstairs?" The man assumed it was best to take Mr. Crowley to the bedroom where he'd recently been sleeping, just in case Mrs. Crowley decided to come back later that night.

The red haired man had sighed. In that moment, he looked tired and worn and so very sad. Ezra felt tears welling up in his eyes that he quickly blinked away.

Instead of responding, the man simply raised his hand to grab onto Ezra's. Together, they stood, Ezra supporting the other man's weight as they slowly made their way down the hallway and toward the staircase.

Getting to the stairs hadn't been much of an issue. Mr. Crowley could walk, albeit not in a very straight line, but his ability to put one foot in front of the other on a flat surface had not been inhibited yet. His ability to climb, however, was another story completely.

The moment his foot touched the bottom step, Mr. Crowley pitched forward and it took all of Ezra's strength to catch him and stand him back up. "Easy does it, sir," Ezra murmured, feeling the warmth of Mr. Crowley's arm around his shoulder, burning through his white dress shirt. One step at a time, they ascended the stairs, the red haired man clinging to Ezra all the while.

Finally, they emerged at the top, victorious, and Ezra was able to lead the man gently to his bedroom and lay him down on the bed. Mr. Crowley looked over at him for a moment, as if he were studying Ezra like a zoologist would study a new species of mammal. Ezra looked away, suddenly inexplicably embarrassed by the attention.

"The world is cruel, Mr. Fell," the other man breathed after several moments of silence. He shifted his leg so that the tip of one shoe was pressed up against the heel of the other. With a grunt, Mr. Crowley pushed, but it was no use. The shoes scraped uselessly against each other, neither one budging an inch.

"Here," Ezra breathed. He should have thought to take the man's shoes off sooner, but hadn't wanted to overstep any boundaries. Especially not when Mr. Crowley was drunk. It was impossible to know what to expect from him. "Let me."

Slowly, Ezra leaned over and began to untie the laces on the black dress shoes. He loosened one, then slipped it off, turning his perfectly manicured fingers to the other once he was finished. He could feel the intense burn of Mr. Crowley's gaze on the back of his neck and Ezra found himself desperately wishing the man would say something, _anything_, just so Ezra could know what in the world he was thinking about.

"The world is cruel," the man repeated thoughtfully, "but not you, Mr. Fell. You are kindness incarnate. I don't think there's a cruel bone in your entire body. How is that?"

Ezra felt heat rush to his cheeks and he carefully avoided looking at the man beside him. How could he say something like that so simply? Yes, the man was drunk and probably didn't understand _what _he was saying, but that hadn't stopped the words from slipping out, which meant they had to be true - he had to believe them deep down, right?

The man was waiting for an answer. Eventually, Ezra looked up into his amber gaze, struggling with the words to say. "I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "I suppose it comes naturally, most of the time. I enjoy being kind to others. I feel good inside when I know I've helped someone. It makes me happy."

A frown appeared on his face. "Human nature is evil, and goodness is caused by intentional activity," he stated without much of a second thought. Ezra recognized those words. As a bookshop owner, he'd read a lot of philosophy books in his day. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Mr. Crowley, too, dabbled in those particular readings.

"Xun Kuang." A soft smile appeared on the blonde man's face. Mr. Crowley looked impressed.

"We are each made for goodness, love, and compassion. Our lives are transformed as much as the world is when we live these truths." Ezra countered, with his own philosophical quote.

Mr. Crowley looked thoughtful for a moment, and not nearly as tired or angry as he had downstairs less than an hour ago. Slowly, he pulled himself up on the bed so his back was resting against the wooden headboard. He fixed his eyes on Ezra's and asked him a question.

"And do you, Mr. Fell, find that your life is transformed by kindness? Do compassion and love fulfill you?"

Ezra didn't know exactly how to answer that. He always felt that kindness was the right response, no matter the circumstance. Compassion, when coupled with empathy may be a recipe for constant heartache, of which he was no stranger, but they also helped him to better understand the world around him and the people that lived in it. And love? Well, that was one thing he was no expert in.

"I find that I am more content when I am kind to others," he murmured back, a certain softness seeping into his voice. "I have no complaints on the way I choose to live."

"The tendency to whining and complaining may be taken as the surest sign symptom of little souls and inferior intellect." Another quote. Another compliment. Ezra didn't know how to respond. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. His stomach was doing summersaults inside of him and for the life of him, Ezra couldn't get his heartbeat under control. He hadn't felt like this in ages. All he could manage to do was avert his eyes and hope that the man couldn't see his cheeks turning bright red.

Mr. Crowley chuckled to himself, settling back down into the bed. Sighing, he murmured, "and modest too. If I didn't know any better, Mr. Fell, I would have said you were too much of an angel to be fully human."

Ezra's eyes flew wide as he turned to look at the man. Mr. Crowley's eyes were closed and the blonde watched as he quickly drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Ezra smiled, despite his rapidly beating heart and sweating palms. What a night this had been.

Silently, Ezra sent up another prayer for Mr. Crowley. He asked that the man not be disturbed by visions tonight unless they were joyful ones. He asked that Mrs. Crowley find it in her heart to come home so that the three could be a family again. But most of all, he asked the spirits-that-be to still his trembling heart. Ezra knew himself very well. At the age of thirty, he knew the telltale signs and he knew that if he didn't do something to stop himself from falling soon, he was going to be in a world of trouble.

* * *

On the first day after his wife left him, Crowley went to work. He acted as if everything was normal, because it was. Lilith had always had a flare for the dramatics. This wasn't the first time she had walked out on him or Adam. She had a habit of disappearing for days at a time. Crowley wasn't worried, he told himself. It didn't matter that she'd never left after a fight before. It didn't matter that he'd lost control of himself the previous night - drank too much, embarrassed himself and her. She would come back. She always did.

His memories from the previous night were hazy at best. Crowley remembered the emotions that went along with things more than the actual words that were said. He'd gotten angry and yelled at people. He had made a mess in the dining room. He'd felt disappointment when Lilith had left.

He remembered feeling warm.

Warmth was not really the best description for the emotion he felt, but Crowley didn't know how else to name it. He remembered warm arms around him. Warmth gathering in his chest. Smiles and soft hands and shining blue eyes.

Mr. Fell had been with him last night. He had...he had carried him upstairs, helped get him into bed. They had talked. He couldn't remember about what.

He had called the man angel.

Crowley sighed. He really should stop drinking so much. It always lead to embarrassment for himself and the people around him. No matter how the alcohol seemed to dull the pain and quiet the noises in his mind, the relief was always temporary.

The second day after his wife left him, Crowley worked from home. It was one of the benefits of his job, not being expected to be in the office all the time. The man rather liked working from home most days. His study was quiet and he could take a break whenever he needed to without fear of judgement from his co-workers. Just the option of stepping away for a moment brought him more relief than the act itself.

He spent the entire day shut away in his office. Things were easier that way. The rest of the house felt so empty now, even with Mr. Fell and Adam milling about. Crowley felt as if he were going to suffocate in the vastness of it all if he stepped outside of his study, so he remained. He did not get up to eat. He did not move to retrieve any books from the library, no matter how helpful they might have been. He did not retire to bed at a reasonable hour, or any hour for that matter. Crowley remained within those four familiar walls throughout the second day.

The morning of the third day, there was a knock on the door.

"Mr. Crowley?" It was Mr. Fell. Crowley felt a strange twisting in his chest. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, painfully aware that he hadn't actually gotten any rest the previous evening. Panic danced at the edge of his consciousness and Crowley breathed in deep. _Please go away,_ he willed the man, knowing it would do no use. His blasted kindness wouldn't let him leave Crowley alone. Not now. Not in this condition.

"I've brought you some breakfast. Hashbrowns and bacon. I cooked it up myself."

_Damn him. _Damn that man and his kindness and thoughtfulness. His generosity. How could Crowley possibly turn him away?

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal Mr. Fell dressed in his usual tan suit and tartan bowtie. In his arms sat a silver tray with an entire spread. The man hadn't just brought potatoes and bacon, he'd also assembled a pot of tea, glass of juice, two slices of toast with his choice of spreads, and a hard boiled egg.

"You didn't have to do all this," Crowley found himself saying, once again trying to rub the tiredness from his eyes. His back hurt from sitting so long and the man was very aware how ragged he must look. He was still dressed in his work clothes from the previous day and they had become terribly wrinkled. At this point, Crowley didn't care. His traitorous stomach was growling too loudly for him to care about anything else except for the food being placed in front of him.

"Can I get you anything else?" the man asked quietly. Crowley looked up at him and was surprised to see tears shining in Mr. Fell's eyes. Did the man's empathy know no bounds?

Crowley gestured to the cushioned seat that had been placed on the other side of his desk. "Take a seat, Mr. Fell."

The blonde haired man bustled over to the chair. Gingerly, he sat down on the edge, his soft hands folded nervously in his lap. Crowley looked up at the man, taking in his round face, halo of curls, and his soft blue eyes shining with every emotion that he must be feeling. In their depths, he saw worry and discomfort and something else buried underneath.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Crowley?" He sounded on the verge of tears. The worry seemed to be washing off him in waves. It took a moment for Crowley to realize some time had passed since he'd spoken last. What must this man be thinking?

"No need to worry, Mr. Fell," Crowley assured, offering up his most comforting smile. By the man's reaction, he assumed it had come out as more of a grimace. "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."

The man was blushing and wouldn't look him in the eye. Crowley's mind was filled with images of the last time they'd seen each other, trying to pinpoint what he would have said or done to cause such a reaction. Remembering was no use. If he wanted answers, Crowley was simply going to have to ask.

"Look," Crowley began, not quite sure how else to say it. "I'm going to be rather honest with you, Mr. Fell. I don't remember much about the other night." He waited to see what the man's reaction would be. Mr. Fell still looked quite nervous, but at least now he wasn't avoiding Crowley's gaze. It was a step in the right direction. "If I did or said anything to make you uncomfortable - "

"No!" the man practically shouted, then realized he'd just interrupted Crowley. All color drained from his face as he went silent. A thin smile appeared on Crowley's face and he waited for Mr. Fell to continue. "You were quite polite," he explained softly. "After the whole yelling bit was over with."

Crowley's face fell. So the man had been there to witness that too. How bad had it been? Had he shouted at Mr. Fell too? Was that why he was so nervous. Crowley and Lilith had their fair share of shouting matches over the years. He was used to the concept of yelling at her, but this man? Crowley was horrified to think he might have even raised a voice at the gentle creature.

"What, um…" he trailed off, completely mortified he even had to ask the question. "What did my wife say? Before she left?"

If Mr. Fell was surprised Crowley didn't remember, he made no indication. "She mentioned going to her sister's house. Asked you not to call."

He was hiding something from Crowley. His blue eyes were entirely too heartbroken for that to have been the only message Crowley's wife had left for him.

"And…?" he waited. There was no immediate response. "I know there was more, Mr. Fell."

The man sighed, still wringing his hands nervously on his lap. "Her words were rather cruel, Mr. Crowley. I would hate to cause such unpleasantness a second time."

That bad, was it? Crowley simply shook his head. Maybe the situation was more serious than he'd originally thought. At least Adam had been asleep for his outburst. What a terrible thing for a child to have to witness.

Crowley looked up at the blue eyed man, a sudden concern blooming in his chest. Adam. He hadn't even thought to consider his son in all of this. Crowley had been too wrapped up in his own feelings to spare a single thought for the young boy.

"Adam," Crowley began, trying to hide the quavering his voice had suddenly taken on. "Does he know? Has he asked about her?"

The change in Mr. Fell's expression was immediate. Crowley didn't have to hear the man's answer to know what it was. What did it say about him? What did it say about his relationship with his son or his wife that she'd been gone for three days and their son hadn't noticed?

"He asked about you," Mr. Fell offered gently. Crowley's eyes went wide as he turned his attention back to the man. Adam had asked about _him_? Why? Whatever for? Crowley didn't necessarily have the closest relationship with his son. Of that, he was not proud, but things were what they were.

"He's worried about you," the man continued. He paused, as if considering saying something else. Crowley waited with bated breath, not entirely understanding why it was so important to him to hear what this man had to say. "We both are, Mr. Crowley."

Mr. Fell's concern touched Crowley in a way he hadn't experienced before. He was reminded of that disastrous night and the warmth that had welled up inside him then. A similar experience was happening now and Crowley realized it was because of this man sitting before him.

How strange.

"You know," Mr. Fell started up again in the wake of Crowley's silence. "The school year is over for most of the students here in London and the surrounding areas. Have you thought about the possibility of taking Adam on a holiday? Perhaps a week or two somewhere out in the country? The fresh air would be good for the boy and it could, well I reckon it could do you some good as well."

From any other man, Crowley could have taken this bold statement as an insult - an insult to his parenting, to his ability to manage his own health, to a number of other things. Coming from Mr. Fell, however, the words were a cry of concern. To hear that his son also felt this concern was enough to make the man consider it.

"My mother left me a small house just south of Crawly. I used to spend my summers down there playing in the creek." A ghost of a smile appeared on the man's face as memories of climbing trees and picnics and watching fireflies entered his mind. How had he never taken Adam there before? He had so many fond memories of the cottage that had somehow all been hiding until now. "You may have a point, Mr. Fell. I think spending some time at the cottage will be a nice change for Adam. I'll arrange the holiday at once, on one condition."

The blonde haired man looked up at him, slightly confused, but mostly brimming with relief. Crowley leveled his gaze on the man, marveling at just how _blue_ his eyes were. Like a robin's egg, or the brightest summer's sky. How could anyone look at them and feel anything but total peace and contentment? He could do just that for hours, if given the chance.

"You, Mr. Fell, have to come with us."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! If you're enjoying this so far, please let me know! I would love to hear some feedback from you all. **


	7. Clematis Vitalba

**A/N: Happy Saturday, everyone! I'll be posting a decent bit of this story today, so don't be surprised if you see it growing quite rapidly. I leave tomorrow morning for vacation, so I wanted to get it out there before I go. If you're still reading, feel free to drop a comment. I absolutely adore reading them!**

* * *

"And then, I'm going to tie it to a string and run really really fast so it flies up into the air really really high. And then, a big gust of wind will blow through and lift me up into the air and I'll fly up over the trees. That way, I can spot the best spot to go fishing and play catch and all sorts of other things."

Ezra laughed. Adam's enthusiasm was palpable, filling every inch of the automobile as they made the drive to the cottage. In a surprising turn of events, the three of them had taken Mr. Crowley's car, instead of hiring someone to drive them. The vehicle was a bentley, brand new and very expensive. Ezra tried not to think too much about how this one piece of machinery likely cost more than all of his belongings on earth put together.

Mr. Crowley had volunteered to drive them and had insisted on Ezra taking the seat beside him. Adam had the back seat to himself and was constantly shifting back and forth from one window to another, looking out in awe at everything that passed by them.

The most amusing thing the boy had fixated on were the trees. Adam had seen trees before. They went to Hyde Park at least once a week and there were plenty of trees to be seen there. Ezra had no idea what made these trees so magnificent to the boy, but he enjoyed the endless chatter all the same.

"They're so tall, Mr. Fell!" Adam exclaimed as they turned off the main road and began their drive through the forest. "And so green. Do you think I could climb one of them? I want to find the tallest tree around and climb it to the tippy top. Maybe I'll get to see a hawk or an owl!"

Ezra smiled. "You won't see an owl this time of day, my boy. And if you do, best leave it alone."

"Why's that?" Adam asked curiously. Ezra watched in the rear view mirror as the boy slid back across the seat, nose pressed up against the glass window.

"Owl's are nocturnal, my boy," Ezra explained, turning his head so that he too could gaze out the window at the trees as they passed by. It had been a very long time since the man had been on a holiday. Most of the trips he'd taken as a child had been to the beach, which was lovely in its own right, but not exactly Ezra's cup of tea. Beaches had sand that got into everything and seagulls that snatched up food. There were jellyfish and water that was too cold and murky to enjoy swimming in.

The countryside, on the other hand, had all sorts of wonderful things. There were trails to walk, birds singing in the trees. Quiet filled the air, which was free from the smog and smoke than hung around London like a dense cloud. Out here, the air was pure and refreshing. Ezra grinned in anticipation.

"Does he even know what nocturnal means?" Mr. Crowley asked, speaking for the first time since they'd all climbed into the car. Ezra turned to look over his shoulder at the boy behind them. Slowly, Adam turned to address his father, hazel eyes shining with excitement.

"Means they sleep during the daytime," he announced. Ezra shot the boy a wink. Adam responded in turn, with his wink looking more like a crinkled nose and both eyes squeezing shut.

They would work on that, in time.

"I'm impressed," the red haired man said, his eyes never leaving the road. The sun was bright overhead and Mr. Crowley had dressed for the occasion, donning a pair of black glasses to protect himself from the harsh light. Ezra squinted as he looked over at the man, partly wishing he had a pair of his own.

"How do you decide what to teach him?" the man asked after a brief pause.

Ezra was surprised by the question, but not put out. Mr. Crowley had never shown an interest in his son's education before. The fact that he was asking about it now was good. At least, he hoped so. "I actually asked some of the children in my neighborhood when I first found out I got the job. There's a boy, Marcus, about Adam's age who used to stop by my bookshop on the way to and from school most days. He gave me a whole list of topics they were learning about in school and I chose from those."

"Although," Ezra chuckled. "You son is very inquisitive and has a hard time sitting still, so the lessons often deviate into something entirely different than what I'd planned. He's a fast learner, though. I have no doubts he'll catch up to the other kids in no time."

Mr. Crowley frowned at this, which alarmed Ezra. What reason did he have to be upset? Things were going very well with Adam. His father should be proud he was making such great strides. Ezra imagined the Crowley's might even consider enrolling the boy in school full time come fall term.

Which meant they wouldn't have a need for him anymore.

Did he dare to hope that Mr. Crowley's reaction had been for this very reason? Was there a chance that the man enjoyed Ezra's company and didn't want to have an excuse to see him leave? Once his position as tutor had been fulfilled, there would be no reason for the bookshop owner to even visit with the Crowley's anymore. He might never see Adam or his father again. Was is possible that Mr. Crowley had already realized this and wanted Ezra to stay in his life for as long as possible?

Preposterous. What reason could a man such as Anthony Crowley have to want to see Ezra more than he was forced to by their circumstances? Ezra was a simple, uninteresting man. He liked his books and his tea and long walks in the park. He took life at a leisurely pace, stopping quite often to smell the roses along his path.

Mr. Crowley was the opposite in almost every regard. He drove fast down the motorways, he was opinionated and strong willed. He drank too much and lost his temper.

He read philosophy. He called Ezra 'angel'.

As quick as it had come, Ezra banished the thoughts from his mind. He was here on this trip for Adam. It wouldn't do to forget that.

"Dad!" Adam shouted, launching himself at the window and giving both men a heart attack. "There it is!"

Mr. Crowley chuckled softly and Ezra felt his heart begin to flutter against his will. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down.

"I see it, Adam. Hold still and wait until we're parked until you get out of the car."

It would have been impossible for the man to see his son's position on the car door handle from where he was sitting in the driver's seat, but Mr. Crowley had anticipated the boy's movements anyway.

Ezra could not hold in his gasp of delight as they pulled into the drive. The cottage was beautiful, made from red bricks with ivy growing up the sides and around the windows. There was a small garden out front with dozens of different types of flowers in bloom. Ezra even spotted a small wooden bench out front that would be an absolutely delightful spot to sit and read as he watched the world go by.

"Do you like it?" Mr. Crowley murmured softly as the car came to a stop and Adam leapt from the vehicle. Ezra turned to face the man, tears glistening in his eyes. He felt his heart soar when Mr. Crowley smiled back.

"It's perfect!"

The man leaned away and pushed his car door open. Before Ezra could turn away and grab at his own door handle, Mr. Crowley had made his way to the other side of the car and pulled the door open for him. Ezra swung his legs out of the car, then froze when he noticed the hand hovering a few inches away from his face.

"Thank you," the man murmured as he grabbed onto Mr. Crowley's hand for support while he climbed out of the vehicle.

"Dad!" Adam shouted from the front lawn. "Mr. Fell, look at all these trees!"

The men shared a laugh. Ezra had been worried that coming along on this trip wouldn't be the best of his ideas. What place did he have here among a father and his son? But seeing the joy on Adam's face was worth all the fretting and it put his fears to rest for the moment. Ezra simply stood there in wonder as he watched the boy race around in the grass.

A dull thud jolted Ezra from his thoughts. He turned to find Mr. Crowley at the trunk of the car, pulling out their suitcases one at a time.

Ezra rushed over to him. "Let me help you with that!" he exclaimed, feeling terrible that he'd let the man unload anything at all. Mr. Crowley was the employer. Ezra was the employee. _He_ should be the one doing the unloading and carrying and unpacking.

The man smiled, but it looked filled with sorrow. What Ezra wouldn't give to be able to ask him what was on his mind. But that wouldn't be appropriate, and Ezra would hate to feel like he had pushed things too far, so he stayed silent.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Fell," the man said quietly, gazing up to look at his son who was still racing around under the trees. "Why don't you take him down to the creek. Give him a chance to release some of his energy before dinnertime? There's some pretty good climbing trees down there, if I remember correctly. He'll like that. I'll take care of things here."

Ezra thought about arguing, but decided against it. If Mr. Crowley wanted to move their things inside, he should be allowed to do so. This was his holiday, after all. Whatever he wanted, Ezra would give him.

"Mr. Fell!" Adam shouted as he noticed the short man approaching him. "Did you see all these trees? They're ginormous!"

Laughter escaped his mouth and Ezra pushed all his worries aside. Now was the time to focus on Adam. He could deal with his thoughts for Adam's father another time. "They are quite large. What types of trees do you reckon they are?"

Adam frowned in concentration. "Pine?" he asked, not entirely sure of the answer.

Ezra shook his head. "Pine trees have needles. See how big the leaves are on these trees? They're far too large to be considered needles."

"Well," Adam asked, "What kind are they?"

"It's hard to say for sure…" Ezra trailed off, casting his gaze down onto the boy's perplexed face. "But they look an awful lot like climbing trees to me."

The boy's face lit up. He hopped up and down in place several times, unable to contain his excitement. "Can we go climb one, Mr. Fell? Please, oh please?"

Instead of answering right away, Ezra placed his hands into his pockets and began meandering down the pathway. Adam hurried to catch up, falling into step beside the man, looking up at the bonde curls as they tumbled around in the wind.

"Your father told me," Ezra began after they had gotten some way off, "that the creek has some very good trees for climbing. What say you and I go on an expotition to find them?"

Adam grinned, racing up ahead only to return moments later dragging two sticks along with him.

"What are these?" Ezra asked, completely confounded by the gift Adam had so obviously given him.

"Walking sticks." Of course. How could they be anything else? "All good explorers have them. And we're explorers. So we need walking sticks."

Ezra nodded in agreement. "How very clever of you. I'm so glad you remembered, Adam. You never know when one might need a walking stick."

The man and the boy walked side by side down the path through the forest. Trees swayed above them, sending down the occasional leaf to fall into their path. Ezra could only imagine what this place looked like in autumn, with all the colors of the changing seasons. How he would love to come back and see them sometime.

It didn't take long for the pair to reach the creek. Ezra could hear the trickle of water a few minutes before they approached. To his delight, the pathway wound alongside the small body of water until it came across a small wooden bridge.

"Adam, wait!" Ezra called as the boy took off running for the water. Thankfully, he stopped just shy of the edge, turning to look at the man who'd called his name.

Ezra sighed. "At least take your shoes and socks off before you go leaping in, dear. We wouldn't want them to get ruined, now would we?"

Adam shook his head and did as he was told. Once Ezra was convinced the articles were a safe distance away from the water, he stopped watching Adam like a hawk and turned his attention to the scenery around him. He hadn't noticed on the walk down, but now that the man had time to pay attention, he saw a multitude of patches of tiny white flowers all over the place. They congregated on the grass beneath the shade and at the base of the trees. There was even a small patch growing up around the base of the bridge.

Slowly, Ezra made his way over to it, stooping down to inspect the soft white petals. He was so enraptured by the flower's quaint beauty that the voice that called out from nearby took him completely by surprise.

"Hello there!"

Ezra shot up, eyes glancing around wildly for where the sound had come from. Several long moments later, his mind finally registered what was making its way toward him. There was a young woman, perhaps only a few years younger than he was, wearing a high necked navy dress that reached down to her ankles and a pair of simple black boots. She was standing at the other end of the bridge and was gazing over at him with a bemused expression in her eyes, shining out from behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses.

"Ah! Hello there, my dear. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She was a pretty girl, as girls went. She had long brown hair that fell in curls down to her waist. Her face was soft, skin tanned, and she had an intelligence in her eyes that Ezra was immediately drawn to. She was not his type, but the man could see how most men might find her attractive.

"I saw you and your son while I was on my walk," she explained, crossing the bridge toward him. "I figured the neighborly thing to do would be to come introduce myself."

Neighbors? Ezra found himself smiling. How delightful!

A moment passed before Ezra realized the implications of the rest of her statement. "Oh," he began, a soft blush rising to his cheeks. "Adam isn't my son."

She smiled, eyebrows quirking slightly. "Should I be concerned then, a man of your age running around with a boy who isn't yours?" The words she spoke would normally be taken as serious, but Ezra could sense the humor behind them. She was teasing him.

He laughed. "Not at all! That over there is Adam Crowley," Ezra turned to watch as the boy hopped from one rock to another a little ways down the creek from where they were standing. His walking stick was stuck into the mud a little bit away from him, giving the boy something to grab onto for support as he made his way. "My name is Ezra Fell. I work for Adam's father. As a tutor for Adam."

"Do tutors normally work in the summertime? I thought all the schools were finished for the term." The woman, whom Ezra realized still hadn't given him her name, looked over at him curiously. More heat rose into Ezra's cheeks, which made absolutely no sense since he was not embarrassed in the slightest over his reason for being here. He loved Adam and enjoyed spending time with the boy, whether he was teaching or simply taking care of him. It didn't matter one way or the other.

"I'm also a sort of temporary nanny for the boy," Ezra explained. "His last one quit unexpectedly and Adam's parents have been having a bit of trouble finding a new one. I volunteered to take the position until they could find a suitable replacement."

Her smile turned into a full on grin. "How noble of you."

"I'm afraid I didn't get your name," Ezra began, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself for a moment.

"Anathema Device." She stuck her hand out in greeting and Ezra took it happily.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Device."

The woman's face morphed into one of mock seriousness. "Now, now. There will be none of that. You may call me Anathema or nothing at all. I don't enjoy formalities. They make becoming friends all the more difficult, don't you think."

Ezra laughed. He was beginning to like this woman.

"You both should come over for dinner sometime this week," Anathema offered. "And Adam's parents. My fiance and I would be delighted to have you."

Correcting people on assumptions they made was never a pleasant thing to do, and Ezra felt his palms beginning to sweat at the thought of it. Anathema seemed like a nice girl who probably wasn't overly traditional if she was living with her fiance. She probably wouldn't care that Mr. Crowley was here on his own - that his wife had left for who knows how long. Still, it seemed like such a personal thing to reveal.

"It's just the two of us and Adam's father, Mr. Crowley," Ezra supplied, hoping he wasn't coming across as nervous as he felt.

Anathema simply offered him a soft smile of understanding. "Newton and I would be happy to have the three of you, whenever you have time." She said nothing further on the subject and Ezra liked her all the more for it.

They stayed and talked for a while as Adam played in the water, soaking his pants up to the knees. Eventually, Anathema bid him farewell, stating she had to get home and help with dinner before Newton caught the house on fire. Ezra and Adam, who had rushed over to say hello moments before, bid her goodby and promised they would phone about dinner later in the week.

"I like her," Adam stated as the pair grabbed their walking sticks and headed back to the cottage. It wasn't quite time for dinner, but Ezra wanted to make sure he got Adam back in time to change. He also wanted to make sure Mr. Crowley was doing alright and was curious if the man needed any help preparing dinner. He'd never seen Mr. Crowley cook before and wasn't entirely sure what to expect. "She was really nice."

"That she was, my boy," Ezra murmured, looking around as they made their way back up the path. He spotted more of those small white flowers along the ground with a few winding their way up the trees as the passed. Subconsciously, Ezra slowed to get a better look at them. Noticing his companion had stopped, Adam scurried up behind him.

"What are you looking at, Mr. Fell?"

Ezra blinked. His hand slid up gently underneath the flower as he turned it ever so slightly from one side to the other. "These flowers are quite remarkable. I wonder what their name is."

"Those are _clematis viltalba_," a familiar voice sounded some ways behind the pair. Adam immediately jumped away from the tree and rushed over to his father, stopping a few feet away. Ezra looked up and locked gazes with the man, quite confident that he hadn't displayed any of the storm of emotions that overtook him at the sight of the man approaching him. For once, he appeared unfazed.

Mr. Crowley took a few steps closer and Ezra's resolve wavered. He looked away as the man stopped within arms reach of him, hand extending toward the small white petals.

"Traveller's Joy," he explained, eyes shifting from Ezra to the tiny flower beneath his fingertips. Ezra marveled at how graceful the man's hands were. How they gently held the flower like it was made of glass and could shatter at a single touch. The man felt a sudden urge to reach out and brush his own fingertips against that hand, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. Yearning to feel its warmth against his own. Wishing that hand could hold Ezra's with the same delicacy and care as it currently held the vined flower before them.

Ezra bit the inside of his cheek to bring himself out of those thoughts. What in the world was he doing? Thinking like that would only lead to heartache.

"You surprise me, Mr. Crowley," he remarked instead. "I had no idea you were such a botanist."

The man smiled and the sight of it made Ezra's heart soar. He told himself the reaction was due to seeing Mr. Crowley happy for once. It meant nothing more significant than that.

"I did spend plenty of summers here," the red haired man mused, eyes still fixed on the flower. "After a while, you run out of forest to explore and you're forced to actually learn things about the world around you, I suppose."

Ezra smiled and looked up as Mr. Crowley turned his gaze back. "It would seem I still have quite a bit to learn, myself," Ezra began. "Thank you for sharing, sir."

The man's amber eyes softened as he looked down at Ezra. Softly, he tugged at the vine in his hands, pulling off a small piece with three simple flowers still attached. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down to grab onto Ezra's hand, pulling it up so it was outstretched in front of him, able to receive the gift.

Ezra momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Mr. Crowley smiled warmly as he placed the vine in Ezra's open palm, the warmth of his fingers leaving all too soon for Ezra's taste. "Please," he murmured softly, so that only the two of them could hear. "Call me Anthony."


	8. A Feather Between Us

The cottage had a total of three bedrooms - four if the attic space was included. It had a window and a bed, which is all that was really needed to be considered a bedroom, so Crowley considered the count to be four. Two of them sat upstairs on the second floor across the hall from each other. They were both small, but had enough space for all the necessities. The third bedroom was on the first floor, just on the other side of the sitting room. When he'd been much younger, this had been where Crowley's parents had slept.

When it came time for them to pick rooms, Adam had demanded to know which of them had been Crowley's room when he visited as a child. He had absolutely refused to consider sleeping anywhere else. That fierce determination had brought warmth into Crowley's heart. He had been happy to show his son the way.

It made sense for Crowley to take the downstairs bedroom for himself. The home was his, after all, and Crowley was pretty sure that if he'd offered it to Ezra, the man would have fainted at the thought. He was far too selfless for his own good.

With few choices remaining, Ezra had taken the bedroom across the hall from Adam. The three had settled in quite nicely, much faster than Crowley had expected. Being back here brought forth memories of a happier time in his life. After only a day, the man felt like he could breathe easier. His head was clearer, panic no longer constantly hovered at the edges of his mind. He wouldn't go so far to say that he was happy, but he was less miserable. It was a start.

"Are you sure you don't want any help cleaning things up?" Ezra asked softly after dinner had been prepared, eaten, and all the dishes dumped into the sink. "You worked so hard to make us dinner. It doesn't seem fair to let you clean up too."

This man's kindness was practically overwhelming. Crowley turned to Ezra. The simple knowledge that he could address him by that name now brought a hint of a smile to the man's face. "Let me handle this, Ezra. You just focus on putting Adam to bed."

A frown appeared on Ezra's face and Crowley felt his chest start to ache. He hadn't meant to upset the man. Why was it so important for Ezra to help with this? The man was employed as a tutor for someone's sake, and yet he did the job of tutor, nanny, and was trying to take on duties of some of Crowley's other employees too. He would have to see about giving this man a raise once their holiday was over.

"I'm sure Adam would like the chance to stay up a bit later," Ezra ventured. "I could set him up with a book - he's reading some of the easier ones on his own, you know. That would give me the freedom to lend a hand down here."

Crowley chuckled softly, still not quite understanding the pain in his chest. "Please, Ezra." The appearance of a flush on the man's face did not escape Crowley's notice. Whatever did he have to be embarrassed about? "Let me do this. I like working with my hands. It gives me something to focus on. Gives me a distraction from everything else."

Ezra simply nodded his head, turning away from Crowley as he went to gather up Adam to go upstairs. Crowley resisted the urge to turn and watch him go, instead turning his focus back to the task at hand.

There weren't really that many dishes to wash as there were only three of them staying in the cottage. He made quick work of filling the sink with water, letting his hands soak in the refreshing coolness of it as he dunked in the first plate. Slowly, his mind began to wander. He thought of the excitement in his son's voice as they had pulled up to the house earlier that day. Adam had been thrilled that they were going on holiday and while Crowley was pleased to see his son so happy, he also felt guilty he hadn't bothered to do this before.

Crowley would be the first to admit he wasn't the best father in the world. Adam had been born soon after the war had ended and the man hadn't known what to do with him. Lilith had shown no interest in caring for her son once he arrived and Crowley had been in no state to do much of anything useful. The obvious thing to do was for them to hire a nanny to care for the boy. They had plenty of money to spare, so Crowley hadn't thought twice about the decision He'd gone on living his life the way he'd always saw fit.

And then Ezra had appeared in his life. Crowley had never understood how Ezra had bonded so quickly with his son. Adam loved the man. He was overtaken with joy whenever Ezra entered the room. It was like watching a lamp being lit the first thing every evening, only ten times brighter.

How had Ezra known that this trip would be so wonderful for Adam? Had the boy mentioned wanting to go on a holiday? Or was this something the man had come up with on his own? When he'd initially brought the subject up, Ezra had mentioned the trip would be good for both Adam and his father. Crowley was no stranger to the fact that in the short time they'd known each other, Ezra had already seen him at his weakest - stricken with terror inducing nightmares, so drunk he couldn't remember things the next day. What must this man think of him? Was his affection for Adam really so strong that he could overlook Crowley's obvious faults? How could he stand to be in the same room as Crowley, living under the same roof?

It surprised the man how much he wanted Ezra to like him. He wanted the man to enjoy his company as Crowley enjoyed Ezra's. He wanted the blonde haired man to wish to spend time with him too, even when Adam wasn't around.

Crowley knew it was wishful thinking. He knew Ezra was here for Adam's sake, not his own. Still, that didn't stop him from wanting.

When he finally pulled himself out of his thoughts, Crowley found that he had finished with the dishes and was mindlessly wiping down the countertops. It was still early in the night and he wondered if it was worth staying up in the hopes that Ezra would join him once Adam was down or if he should simply retire to his bedroom for the night. There were plenty of books here to pass the time and both he and Ezra had brought more just in case. He could occupy himself until sleep overtook him if the need arose.

Deciding that the likelihood of his wish coming true was slim at best, Crowley made his way towards his bedroom door. It was opposite the hall from the sitting room and just past the bottom of the stairs. As he approached the door, the man could hear Ezra's voice speaking quietly to Adam.

He really shouldn't eavesdrop. It was wrong, but Crowley couldn't help himself. Even if the two were only talking about ridiculous things, like what color kite they should make or the best flavor of ice cream, Crowley found that he desperately wanted to know. He would take any opportunity to learn more about his son and the man who had completely captured the boy's heart.

"Can we make a kite tomorrow and take it flying?" he heard Adam ask. There was a soft rustle and Crowley pictured the young boy snuggling down deep under the bed covers.

"We most certainly can." Crowley couldn't see his face, but he could hear the soft smile in Ezra's voice. He could almost see the scene unfolding upstairs. Adam tucked in after reading a bedtime story. Ezra seated on the bed beside him, hand resting gently on the blankets above Adam's feet.

"I've always wanted to fly a kite," the boy admitted, a yawn interrupting his thoughts. "Mum promised to show me how ages ago."

Crowley froze. This was the first time he'd heard Adam mention his mother since she'd left. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He should have spoken to Adam about it much sooner than this, but he'd been hesitant to bring her up to the boy. Disappointing Adam was the last thing that Crowley wanted to do, but his inaction had forced the result of his negligence on Ezra, which was somehow even worse.

"Do you miss your mother, Adam?" Ezra's kind voice asked, drifting down the stairs toward Crowley.

He could not see Adam's response after that, but for a moment there was silence. Was the boy contemplating his answer? Had he given some kind of visual response? Was he sitting there on the bed, crying softly so Crowley couldn't hear?

"Are you sure, Adam?" Ezra was asking. Crowley's breath stilled. He leaned forward slightly, straining his ears to hear. "You're not sad that she's gone?"

"Nope." The boy's 'p' popped loudly as he enunciated the word. "Mum just visits sometimes. She doesn't live with me, so I shouldn't miss her as much as I miss dad or you, right?"

Crowley felt tears in his eyes, but he blinked them rapidly away. More than anything, he wanted to climb up those stairs and look in the doorway, to see the expressions on their faces. He knew from experience that they would hear him coming as soon as his foot touched the bottom step, and Crowley would be damned if he ruined this moment for them. So he remained motionless.

"You miss me?" There was a hitch in Ezra's voice as he spoke.

"Of course," Adam responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, not so much anymore since you live with us now. But when you used to leave before, I missed you."

Too late. The tears were falling from Crowley's eyes now. There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop them. He just hoped they would stay silent enough for him to hear what came next.

"Why do you miss me Adam?" Crowley had to hold back a sorrowful laugh at that question. How could the man not see what was right in front of his eyes? Crowley had barely been paying attention and even _he _had realized how much Ezra meant to his son.

"Because you're nice to me," Adam murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. "And you listen to me when I talk and you teach me neat things. And you give me nice warm hugs."

There was silence for a moment after that. Crowley thought he heard the boy mumble something else, but he was unable to make out the words from the bottom of the stairs. Distantly, Crowley heard the floor creak above him, signaling Ezra was beginning to stand. Without a sound, the red haired man backed up into the sitting room and hurried over into the kitchen, wiping at his eyes as he went.

He'd had no idea Adam had felt that way. And of course he did! Why wouldn't he? Ezra treated Adam like he was the most important person in the entire world. Who wouldn't cherish that feeling of overwhelming care and acceptance? How could the boy _not _miss it when Ezra went away, leaving him alone in a house with parents who didn't care?

Crowley felt like he was going to throw up. Surely, Adam must hate him. It had been his fault Adam's mother had left, his fault the only care the boy had ever known was from a string of women Crowley had paid to take care of his son. Hell, if it hadn't been for Lilith, Adam wouldn't even have Ezra in his life. She had been the one who had been so insistent on their son improving in school.

Panic was beginning to seize at the man as he struggled to regain his breath. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white. He could hear gentle popping at the edge of his hearing, starting off like simple firecrackers and building in intensity as each second ticked by. The smell of earth hit his nostrils and the man shut his eyes, knowing what would come next. There was no escaping this Hell. There never would be.

"Anthony."

Crowley's eyes flew open, the stench and the noise vanishing with the simple touch of a soft hand on his arm. He could feel tiny jolts of electricity and heat where Ezra's skin met his own. The man was looking up at him with tenderness and worry in his blue eyes, exposed for the whole world to see.

"Are you alright?"

He drew in a ragged breath, the burning in his lungs finally letting up enough for him to form a coherent thought.

"I need some air."

The man was still frozen to his spot, however, his hands still gripping the sink. If he let go, he would surely fall through the floor into the molten center of the earth and burn up, never to be seen or heard from again.

Gently, Crowley felt Ezra's hand slide down his arm and come to rest on the back of his hand, the barest whisper of a touch. Perfectly manicured fingers encircled his wrist and with a slight tug were able to undo his death grip and ease him toward the sanctuary that was the evening countryside.

His relief was instantaneous. Stepping outside, Crowley felt all of his anxieties melt away. Breathing deeply, the red haired man glanced up at the sky above them, marveling at just how bright the stars shone when they weren't being obscured by fog and smoke.

"I loved her once, you know," Crowley found himself saying after some time had passed. To Ezra or the emptiness of the night sky, he wasn't sure. "A lifetime ago. Before the world became cruel. Before I lost myself to the fighting and the killing and the pointlessness of it all." He paused, wanting desperately to feel the presence of Ezra's hand on his again, but terrified that he would drive the man away if he tried to reach out for it now. "I like to imagine she loved me too."

Ezra could have said any number of things in that moment. He could have asked about the war. He could have told Crowley that he was better off without a wife that would leave him at the drop of a hat. He could have turned the conversation on himself - offered up a tale of sympathy or understanding.

"Tell me about her."

Somehow, Ezra Fell always knew what to say to get at the heart of the issue. He really was an angel. Nothing could convince Crowley otherwise.

"She was a fairytale," Crowley found himself chuckling, remembering the young girl with soft brown eyes and wild curls in her hair. "Like a fairy or a wood nymph. Always flitting about, pretending that the world was full of joy and peace and love. Intoxicatingly beautiful. I was the luckiest bastard in the world that she chose me."

He talked of how they met - at a carnival outside of London. She'd caught his eye from down the road and given him a coy smile. The entire night had been spent dancing around each other, him walking with his friends, Lilith with hers, until they met in the middle at the line for the ferris wheel. Crowley had never been up so high before - never seen the spectacular lights of the town beneath him. He'd been nervous and she'd held his hand all the while, pointing out her favorite places to go, asking about all of his.

They'd gone to every one of those special places in the months that came. Three months was not nearly enough time to get to know someone, but Crowley found himself infatuated with her laugh and her smile. The war began and they'd had a choice to make. Had it really been a choice? Looking back, it was hard to tell. Everyone around them seemed to be doing the same thing. They hadn't thought twice about it.

A courthouse wedding had never been in either of their plans, but they had enjoyed themselves all the same. There had been dancing and a lot of drinking afterward and the next week, Crowley had left. He wrote to her as often as possible. All of her letters had been saved and sat in a shoebox underneath the spare bed in their London home where he now slept. He hadn't looked at them in years.

"Things changed, after the war," Crowley found himself saying, slipping out of the memories and back into reality. Ezra was still standing beside him, blue eyes gazing up at him with an emotion the man could not place. A feather could have wedged itself in the space that lingered between their hands. Still, Crowley did not dare move. He wanted and he wished and he _prayed_ but he would not take this one thing for himself. He knew he didn't deserve it.

"We had a proper ceremony, with all our friends and family. We moved into a fancy new house. We had Adam, and everything was fine. Being with her felt...nice. That's all it was. And that's all it was ever going to be. She and I both know there's no way to go back."

Crowley fell silent, not sure what to say after that. He felt an intense relief was over him, with only a sliver of anxiety still clinging to his consciousness. How would Ezra take all this? Would he be sympathetic? Try to offer words of advice? Would he say nothing and let them stand in silence until one of them tired of looking up at the night sky?

More importantly, did Crowley know what he wanted Ezra to do?

"I wasn't permitted to fight in the war." The words were so soft, Crowley barely registered they were being said. He glanced down at the man beside him, watching him as he looked upward at the heavens. "Childhood injury prevented me from qualifying, so I went to volunteer in Le Touquet instead. I had no medical training. I didn't know how to remove a bullet or apply stitches or amputate a leg. I couldn't save lives. So I cleaned while those who were smarter than me did all those things. I read to the soldiers as they rested. I sang to them as they died. I held their hands and dried their tears. I did my best to make sure they were never alone."

Ezra was trembling. Crowley resisted the urge to wrap his arms around the shorter man's shoulders. He would not - _could not _\- mess this up. If he did anything to scare Ezra off, Crowley would never forgive himself. He couldn't let Adam down again. No matter what, he would do what needed to be done to keep this man around.

"I find myself constantly wondering if I would have fought, given the chance." His voice broke with emotion. "I fear that I would have run away from my duty. Men like you, laying down their lives on the front lines. The horrors you all had to endure. You are a hundred times braver than I could ever be."

Crowley had to physically shove his hands in his pockets to keep from touching Ezra in that moment. "It's not bravery, angel. All I had to do was hold onto my gun and hoped I aimed it better than the other guy. What you did took kindness and compassion. Those are the qualities that fuel bravery."

Silence fell around them once more. Crowley took one last look at Ezra, trying to memorize the shape of his hair, the way the starlight glinted in his eyes. So many feelings were whirling around inside of him like a twisted ball of yarn. It was impossible to sort them all out. Taking a deep breath, Crowley turned back towards the forest before them, closing his eyes and grabbing onto one of the strands of emotion within him, tugging until it came loose.

Hope. Inconceivably, Crowley had found a friend in Ezra. He hoped the man saw him as a friend too. He hoped Ezra would continue to spend time with him, perhaps someday because he wanted to, not just because he felt he had to.

For the first time in years, Crowley felt hope, and it felt more than just _fine_. It was more than just nice. It was everything.


	9. The Mighty Avenger and the Dastardly Cap

Rain poured from the sky throughout the next day, much to Adam's disappointment. He had really been looking forward to flying a kite that afternoon and the look on his face when Ezra had explained they would have to postpone their plans was heartbreaking.

Instead, they had spent the day indoors. Adam had recovered from his disappointment quickly and had eagerly insisted that they call Anathema and see about dinner later that night. Ezra had been hesitant to ask Anthony, not sure whether the man would be up for interacting with the neighbors so soon based on how the previous evening had gone, but the man had surprised him. He telephoned over himself and made all the arrangements, revealing to a very curious Adam that, yes, the three of them would be going over to Anathema's house for dinner that night, and yes he could spend the day making a gift for Anathema and her fiance if he really wanted to.

Adam didn't stick around long after that. He'd raced up to his bedroom before Ezra had fully comprehended what was going on. Chuckling to himself, Ezra had followed, wondering what in the world the boy could have up his sleeve.

"Mr. Fell!" Adam shouted excitedly as the man entered his room. The boy was bouncing up and down on the bed, spinning in circles with each hop. Ezra felt his stomach leap into his chest and he hurried over to the boy, grabbing onto him and lowering him gently down onto the floor.

"Now, now, Adam," he chastised gently. "There will be none of that. If you fall off and break your head, we won't get to go to dinner tonight."

He looked deflated for only a moment before something behind Ezra caught his eye. Before the man could blink, Adam had rushed to the other side of the room and was hurriedly pulling a book from one of the shelves.

"Mr. Fell!" he shouted again, holding the book up for Ezra to see. "Can we put on a show tonight at dinner? It would be so much fun! Please, oh please?"

Ezra reached out and took the book from the boy's hand. It was a recent copy of J. M. Barrie's play 'Peter and Wendy'. Out of all the books Ezra had brought from the bookshop, this was Adam's favorite to read together. They often took turns from one line to the next, Adam always insisting on reading the part of Peter Pan.

"This is a long play, Adam," Ezra started, flipping through the pages. "And we don't have nearly enough actors to pull it off with just the two of us." The boy's face fell and Ezra felt something tug at his heartstrings. "But I daresay you and I could act out part of it. How about the scene towards the end where the mighty Peter Pan confronts the dastardly Captain Hook?"

"Yes!" the boy cheered, racing around the room, unable to contain his delight. Ezra laughed, his heart filling with joy. Oh, how he loved this child.

"Excellent energy, young Adam," Ezra began, slipping into his best 'drama instructor' voice. "I expect you to bring all that and more to your performance tonight. You'll play the part of Captain Hook, of course."

"What?" The boy halted in shock and Ezra sputtered, unable to hold in his laugh. "No, _you're _Hook. I want to be Peter Pan."

A wide smile spread out over Ezra's face. "And why, pray tell, do you believe you would make a better Pan than me?"

The child thought for a moment, a gentle quietness falling over the both of them. Ezra knew it wouldn't last for long, but he soaked it in all the same.

"Because Peter Pan is a boy and I'm a boy. And Hook is a grownup. Only grownups should be grownups. And kids should be kids."

It was hard to argue with that logic.

"Very well," Ezra stated, handing the book back to Adam. He watched carefully as the boy took it from him, looking at the pages Ezra had turned to. "We'll start here, where Hook says 'Throw the girl overboard'. There's a handful of extra lines in here. I'll take care of those, ok Adam? You just worry about the lines that say 'Peter'."

Adam nodded. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and the smile disappeared from his face, but not his eyes. Ezra could tell he was determined to make this the best performance of his life.

They practiced all day. Ezra found that Adam did a decent job of remembering his lines at the beginning, but tended to get distracted once the sword fighting began. They didn't have any real or fake swords to use, so Adam suggested they use a pair of thin decorative pillows instead. Ezra was impressed by his resourcefulness.

Halfway through the afternoon, Ezra finally thought to wonder what Anthony thought of all this. The pair were certainly making quite a ruckus, but the man had made no complaint against them when they'd stopped for lunch, and he said nothing as they came down the stairs, dressed and ready to go for dinner. He hadn't even remarked on the suitcase Ezra was carrying, hiding all of their props. Adam had insisted the show was to be a surprise for his father and their neighbors. If Anthony knew anything about what they had worked on, he never said a word.

The trio arrived at Anathema's house at precisely a quarter to six. They raced out of the car and into the house's open front door, ducking under Anathama's arm as raindrops pelted them from above.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?" Anthony muttered from behind as Ezra had stopped to take both his coat and Adam's. He passed the suitcase off to the boy, directing him toward Anathema to see where it could be placed out of the way for the time being.

"It could be worse, you know," Ezra pointed out, hanging up the two coats on the hangers by the door.

"What?" Anthony returned. "If it rained baseball sized hail? Or actual cats and dogs?"

Ezra smiled, looking up into the man's amber eyes. "Yes. Or perhaps snakes. That would be terrifying, wouldn't it?"

Anthony's eyes narrowed, his eyebrows coming together at the center of his forehead. "I like snakes," he muttered, stepping into the room.

Anathema's house was small and cozy. To the right of the door they'd walked in was a small sitting room with a pair of couches and an armchair. Ezra figured this would be a good place for he and Adam to put on their little show later, assuming they were able to move the coffee table out of the way. At the back of the room stood a dining table with a mismatched set of six chairs set up around it.

A man stood over by the table, placing plates one by one down at each of the seats. As Ezra moved into the sitting room to stand beside Anthony, Anathema slipped by them and walked over toward him.

"Newton," she chided gently. "Our guests are here. Come introduce yourself."

The man, Newton, looked up in surprise, hastily placing the dining ware in a pile on the table. He was a tall man, though Ezra thought most men were tall, with short dark hair and a gangliness to him that reminded the man of Anthony, at least until Newton took a few steps forward.

Where Anthony was tall and lithe and sauntered gracefully as he walked, Newton was awkward and clumsy and practically tripped three times in the short distance from the table to where they all stood. He raised a hand to adjust the glasses perched on the edge of his nose, then extended it for the men to take.

"Newton Pulsifer," he began, smiling warmly in their direction. "Or just Newt. Doesn't really matter to me." He glanced back at the table behind him. "I'll just finish setting this up and then you all can take a seat."

Ezra watched as Anathema breezed through the room, her long emerald dress brushing the floor as she walked. The kitchen was off through the door to the left and Ezra could smell something wonderful drifting in from that direction. It reminded him of the holidays back home when he'd been young.

"Alright everyone!" Anathema called as she made her entrance, balancing four plates with ease in her arms. Ezra immediately moved to help, but the woman simply shot him a wink and danced around him, placing the food gently on the table Newton had just finished preparing. "Take your seats. Dinner is served."

A small hand found its way into Ezra's and the man looked down, surprised. Adam beamed up at him, tugging the man toward the table. "I want to sit right here," he insisted, "between you and Dad."

Ezra noted that Adam did not make a move to reach for his father's hand.

"So," Anathema began once all who were present had been seated and the food was distributed. She had made them a delicious meal of ham, seasoned potatoes, and peas with freshly baked bread rolls. Ezra watched as Adam reached his hand across the table and grabbed a second roll, grinning up at Ezra like he hadn't a care in the world. "What brings you all to the Crawley area?"

"We're on holiday!" Adam exclaimed, reaching out to grab some of the butter to spread on his roll. Quickly realizing what was about to happen, Ezra's hand darted out to grab the knife. He turned to Adam, palm outstretched. Quietly the boy handed his roll over for Ezra to prepare instead.

"How wonderful." Anathema was smiling as she looked down at the boy. Ezra could tell she was taken with him already. It was hard to resist the charms of Adam Crowley. Just like someone else he knew.

Ezra chanced a glance over at Anthony. The man was picking at the food on his plate, politely paying attention to Anathema as she spoke. He looked at ease, for once, which surprised Ezra. The man had expected Anthony to be uncomfortable visiting with strangers, but he had taken the entire day in stride.

Slowly, the man's mind drifted to the previous night. Did he dare to hope that Anthony's surprising demeanor had something to do with the conversation they'd had? Was Anthony becoming more familiar with him? He'd certainly managed to open up to Ezra as they'd talked, and Ezra had done the same. Talking to Anthony was so easy, at times, when he wasn't worrying about what the other man thought of him. He wished things could be that easy all the time.

"Are you alright, Ezra?"

Anthony's voice slid into his consciousness and Ezra physically jolted in his seat. How much of the conversation had he missed? Had he been staring at Anthony this entire time? Oh, this wasn't good at all.

"What?" He fought against the blush creeping up his neck. "Me? Oh, I'm fine. Absolutely tickety-boo!" Ezra turned his attention back to Anathema who was giving him a look like she knew something he didn't, which was obviously ridiculous, seeing as there was nothing to know.

"I was asking about your bookshop," she said. "Mr. Crowley mentioned you owned one in London."

Mr. Crowley? Ezra was confused. Anathema had made it very clear to him how she felt about formalities. If she wasn't using Anthony's first name, it had to be because he had asked her not to. She seemed like the type of woman who would respect a request of that nature. So the question remained: why had Anthony wanted her to use his last name?

"Yes, in Soho," Ezra clarified. "It's been in the family for several generations now. I quite enjoy working there."

"What sort of books do you sell?"

He smiled, his previous fluster completely forgotten. "Oh, all sorts of them. A decent mix of classic literature, mystery, some reference books and other non-fiction. Children's books, too, although I think my entire inventory ended up in Adam's bedroom."

"Mr. Fell and I read them every night," Adam announced proudly before stuffing the second bread roll into his mouth. He'd hardly touched the rest of his food.

"All of them?" This question had come from Newton. It was hard for Ezra to tell if the man was being serious or just joking around. He sounded surprised, like he believed they actually did read Ezra's entire collection every night, but his initial impression of Anathema's fiance was that he was at least somewhat of an intelligent person, if a little clumsy. Surely he knew it would be impossible to read each of those books every night. That would take hours.

"No," Adam laughed. "That would take _ages_. Mr. Fell picks one and I pick one. We read them together before he tucks me in."

Both Anathema and Newton smiled, sharing a glance with each other. Ezra felt something in his stomach stir. It was hot and strong and an altogether unpleasant feeling. He knew what that look meant, without either of them having to say anything out loud. Their expressions had said it all. He'd seen the joy and hope and excitement pass through their eyes as they no doubt thought about having something like this in their future someday.

Ezra was jealous.

He had no right to be. Ezra knew he lead a good life. He had a job he enjoyed, friends he liked spending time with. The bookshop and its contents brought him a lot of joy. What right did he have to be envious of what this couple had? Ezra's life was nice. What he had was enough, wasn't it?

"Which one is your favorite?"

The question hadn't come from their neighbors, but from Anthony himself. Ezra's heart warmed and the feeling that swept through his body in that moment burned all the jealousy away. This. This was the reason he was here. Seeing Anthony reaching out to learn more about his son, to hopefully grow closer to Adam. That was all Ezra wanted.

Adam beamed. As Ezra watched him interacting with his father, the man realized something. This wasn't Adam's happy grin, nor his excited one. This grin showed slightly more teeth than the others and was accompanied by a very mischievous look in the boy's hazel eyes.

"I can't tell you," Adam stated. "It's a surprise."

Anthony's eyes widened slightly. "A surprise? How long do I have to wait to find out?"

Ezra found himself smiling as Adam looked to him for guidance. He noticed Anthony looking his way as well, but did his best to ignore the beautiful amber gaze.

"We can show them when you've finished eating the rest of your food, my dear," Ezra remarked, looking pointedly down at Adam's plate that was devoid of any bread, but still had all of the other dinner ingredients.

The rest of dinner passed by without incident. Before they could clear a single dish, Adam practically dragged all of the adults into the sitting room and plopped them down on the couch as Ezra politely asked if they could move the coffee table out of the way for a few moments.

"Dinner and a show?" Anathema asked as Adam flipped open the suitcase and pulled out several props. "How wonderful!". He handed Ezra a boy-sized red cape, which the man immediately hung around his neck, and a metal coat hanger. For himself, the boy donned a green cap with a red feather. The hat was meant to be used as a dress up piece for 'Robin Hood', but as Adam had pointed out earlier, it was 'just a hat with a feather'. They didn't need much more than that.

"You ready?" Ezra asked softly as Adam pulled out the final props - their throw pillows- and handed one to him. The boy nodded, quickly glancing over at his father. Anthony was sitting in the armchair, a strange expression on his face. He was looking at Ezra, not at Adam, and seemed to be lost in thought. Ezra blinked, looking over at the red haired man. He softly cleared his throat. This seemed to pull Anthony out of his thoughts. The man looked down and smiled at his son. Adam then turned back to Ezra and smiled.

"Lady and Gentlemen!" Ezra addressed them boldly, putting as much flourish into his words as he could. Anathema grinned. Newton looked confused. Anthony...well, it was best if Ezra didn't look at Anthony for now. He might pass out. "Thank you all for coming to see our production of a scene from 'Peter and Wendy'. Please, hold all questions until the end and keep an eye out for your cues. There will be audience participation."

He took a deep breath, focusing his attention on Adam. "Places." The boy scurried behind the couch, ducking down so he was momentarily out of sight.

"Throw the girl overboard!" Ezra declared, waving his 'hooked' hand in the air, directing it toward Anathema, whom he had just decided would be his 'Wendy'. The coathanger glinted in the lamplight. "There is none can save you now, missy."

"There is one!" Adam declared, jumping out from behind the couch, brandishing his pillow sword.

Ezra looked at the boy, trying to put on his most dastardly pirate face. "Who is that?"

"Peter Pan, the avenger!" The boy struck a pose, puffing out his chest, both hands on his hips. Ezra could hear laughter from the couch beside them. Adam grinned. He was eating this up.

The man waved his pillow-sword around in Adam's direction. "Cleave him to the brisket," he ordered his imaginary pirate soldiers. Adam put on an expression of mock panic before waving at the imaginary lost boys behind him, ordering them into a full attack.

The next part of the play they'd been forced to skip, since there weren't any pirates or lost boys to play the part. Adam had the next line and he'd managed to remember it about half the time when they'd been practicing. Ezra watched to see what the boy would do next.

"Put up your swords," Adam demanded. Ezra felt pride swell within him. He'd remembered. "He's mine."

Close enough. Ezra took a step forward, holding out his pillow as if it were a real sword. It drooped a bit at the end and wasn't very formidable looking, but Adam's pillow was no better. As intimidating foes, they appeared to be evenly matched.

"So, Pan, this is all your doing!" Ezra swiped at Adam. The boy blocked the attack with his pillow.

"Aye, Hook, it is all my doing." The boy nodded his head so forcefully that the hat slipped off the front of his head, falling to the floor. Adam quickly bent down to pick it up.

"Proud and insolent youth, prepare to meet thy doom!" Ezra tried to be menacing. He really did, but the laughter coming from their audience was getting to him and the excitement on Adam's face was almost too much. He couldn't stop himself from grinning like a fool.

"Dark and sin'ster man, have at thee."

He'd had a bit of trouble with that word. Ezra was happy to hear it came out sounding much more like 'sinister' than some of Adam's earlier pronunciations. Somehow, the word 'sister' or 'canister' didn't seem to quite fit as well.

They swung their pillows around a few times, hopping in a little circle around each other. Anathema cheered when Adam managed to thwack Ezra in the leg. Ezra tried to bop the boy in the head a few times, but he always slowed his arm movements enough for Adam to easily duck out of the way. It wouldn't do to have the villain slay the hero, now would it?

Eventually, Ezra launched into his next line, bringing the scene to its climax. He paused, holding his makeshift hook up in the air like he'd just had a bright idea. "I'll fire the powder magazine." He quickly dodged away from Adam and quickly ran out the nearest door into the kitchen and out of sight. Stopping to listen in the doorway, Ezra heard Adam turn to whisper to their audience.

"Now's the part where you say 'Peter, save us.'"

Ezra's hear soared when he heard Anthony's voice, the loudest of them all.

"Peter, save us!"

He heard footsteps running off in the other direction. The stage notes mentioned at this part that Peter was supposed to fly off the wrong way as Hook returned to the stage. Originally, their plan was to have Adam hide behind something in the room, like he had at the beginning, but Anathema's house had a nice layout for this sort of thing. Adam could race out the sitting room door, circle back through the library and the kitchen and emerge through this door as if he'd flown through an entire pirate ship.

That was Ezra's cue. The man waltzed out, putting on his best grimace. He caught sight of Anathema and Newton's delight, but still forced himself not to look at Anthony. Not yet.

"Back, you pewling spawn. I'll show you now the road to dusty death!"

From behind him, Adam rushed in, holding up a small crumpled piece of paper. Ezra hoped that hadn't been anything important. The boy opened his mouth and let out a victorious crow before launching the paper into the air. It hit the ceiling and both Adam and Ezra made ridiculous crashing noises, simulating the explosion.

Seeing his plan ruined by a child, Ezra let out a strangled sob of despair and fell to the floor in defeat. Adam rushed over and placed his foot victoriously on Ezra's waist as the man looked out of a squinted eye. The audience cheered as Adam let out another crow. Ezra looked up at Anthony, but for once, the man's eyes were fixed entirely on his son. He was beaming from ear to ear. It was the most beautiful sight Ezra had ever seen.

* * *

Later that evening, when the conversation had ended along with the rain, Anthony had driven them home. Despite his earlier enthusiasm, Adam was asleep by the time they pulled into the drive.

"I'll take him upstairs," Ezra whispered as the two men climbed out of the car. His stomach clenched together, tying itself in knots as the man fought with what to say next. "I'd love a cup of tea, if you decide to make some." There. A subtle invitation for Anthony to spend more time with him, but one the man could easily turn down without the fear of hurting Ezra's feelings.

"That sounds nice." Anthony smiled over at him and Ezra practically melted. He waited patiently as the man opened the car's back door. Gently, Ezra leaned down to lift Adam out, extremely aware of Anthony's gaze on his backside.

Less than five minutes later, the man found himself back down in the kitchen, waiting for the tea kettle to boil. Anthony had taken a seat at the table and was currently flipping through the newspaper from earlier that morning. When he heard Ezra approaching, he looked up, gesturing for the man to come sit beside him.

Ezra's hands sat nervously on the table in front of him. What should he say? He'd been so focused on his desire to spend more time with Anthony that he hadn't thought about what to do with that time if it was ever granted. There were so many things he wanted to know about the man. So many things he wanted to ask. But where was the line? What was alright to talk about and what topics should he avoid?

"Thank you."

The sound echoed in the room around them and Ezra looked up, puzzled. Anthony was still sitting beside him, the paper laid down, looking over at him with those burning eyes. Once again, he was frozen to the spot, unable to look away.

"What you did for Adam tonight…" Anthony trailed off, his hand twitching as it rested on the table. How far away were they? A foot? Nine inches? How hard would it be to just reach out and touch him, if only for a moment?

"It was incredible, angel. I don't think I've ever seen him that happy before. And you two brought so much joy to Anathema and Newton, and to me as well. So, thank you. For humoring him. For working with him to accomplish his goals. It meant so much to me to see that tonight."

Ezra wasn't listening. His brain had short circuited after the word 'angel' had left Anthony's lips. This was the third time he'd heard the man use that term in reference to him. The first time, Anthony had been drunk, so Ezra had easily discounted it. Drunk people said strange things all the time. He probably hadn't meant it.

The second time had been the previous night. At first, Ezra thought he had misheard. As he replayed the conversation in his mind, the man realized that perhaps Anthony had said what Ezra had thought, but once again he convinced himself the man didn't mean it. What did that even mean, Anthony calling him 'angel'? Was it some sort of endearment? A pet name? A sign of their friendship? Ezra had no idea and he was terrified to ask. Mostly because he adored the name and didn't want it to stop.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Anthony looked concerned. Ezra noticed his hand twitch again and for the briefest of moments, he thought the man was going to reach over and take his hand. The overwhelming desire for that to transpire nearly drove Ezra to tears.

_No! _He wanted to yell. _No, I'm not alright. Whenever I'm around you, I have this overwhelming need to be closer to you. I want to stay up all night and just talk. I want to ask you a million questions and get a million more answers. I want to know everything about you. You who call me 'angel', who make me forget how to breathe. No, I'm not alright because you're a man and you're married and I think I lo - _

Ezra immediately shut those thoughts down, unaware of how much Anthony had seen reflected in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, painfully aware that the tears had already started to fall. There was no hiding this. Not from him.

"Ezra, I'm so sorry." There was a pain in the man's voice and Ezra desperately wanted to chase it away. Anthony had suffered enough. He didn't deserve any more pain. This was all Ezra's fault. If only he could have learned to control his damn emotions.

Something touched him lightly on the hand, sending waves of shock and pleasure traveling up his arm and down his spine. Ezra's eyes bolted open and he was yanking his hand back as if Anthony's touch had caused him immense pain.

The touch _had _caused him pain. Just not on his hand.

"I'm sorry, Anthony," Ezra stuttered, already pushing himself away from the table. "It's been a long day and I'm rather tired. I think I'll head upstairs now, if that's alright with you."

Anthony was silent for some time and Ezra stopped to look at him. The man sat with his head bowed, hands folded in front of him, almost as if he was praying. A wave of sorrow washed over the blonde haired man. He wanted more than anything to be able to hold Anthony. To be held by Anthony, but it just wasn't in the cards. Anthony could never feel the way Ezra did about him. He was a man. He was married. He was beautiful and clever and wealthy and everything Ezra was not.

"Of course," the man finally whispered, his amber eyes remaining closed. "Sleep well, Ezra. I'll see you tomorrow."

_Nonononono. _Ezra had done this. He had upset Anthony and now the man was pulling away from him. He had been so happy when Anthony had suggested he wanted them to be on a first name basis. Now, hearing his name spilling from Anthony's lips, it filled him with a sadness that he didn't understand. _My name is angel. Please, let me still be your angel. I promise I'll be good. I promise to get my feelings under control. I won't make trouble, just please let me stay in your life. _

He said none of this, instead choosing to bid the man a soft goodnight before rushing out the door and upstairs to where his bed was waiting. At least in his dreams, things had a chance of turning out alright.


	10. Pesky Dreams

Sun filtered warmly through the canopy of leaves above their heads as Crowley, Ezra, and Adam made their way down to the creek. Summer had finally arrived in full force and they were going to make the most of it. So, blanket folded in one hand, picnic basket dangling from the other, Crowley lead the way. He gazed out at the trees and tiny wildflowers through his sunglasses as they walked, simply enjoying the company of the man that walked beside him as Adam raced on ahead.

Ezra turned and smiled up at him and Crowley felt his heart come to life. Had he ever been this happy before? He couldn't think of a moment in his life that was better than this.

"What are you thinking about, my dear?" Ezra asked him softly. They were sitting on the blanket, positioned on a grassy hillside that overlooked the creek. Adam was knee deep in the water, peering under some rocks, likely looking for fish or salamanders or the like. Ezra and Crowley sat side by side, simply watching the boy exploring, enjoying the day as it passed them by. Somewhere, in the folds of the tartan cloth, Crowley's sunglasses lay discarded and forgotten about. The man found he didn't care.

Crowley was barely paying attention to his son. His eyes were all for Ezra. The man's hair practically glowed in the sunlight. His blue eyes sparkled, as deep and pure as the sky above them. Crowley was mesmerized by the man's beauty, both inside and out. He had never met anyone so kind and thoughtful before. How was it that a man such as Ezra Fell wanted to be here, with him?

"Just how beautiful you are, my angel," he murmured, leaning in towards Ezra's ear. _His _angel. Truer words had never been spoken.

A soft sigh escaped the man's lips and Crowley felt himself drawn to them. They glistened in the sunlight, wet from where the man had licked them just moments ago before he had spoken. A burning desire began to well up inside Crowley and he found he couldn't resist any longer.

Tenderly, he brought a hand up to the man's cheek, brushing his fingertips against the impossibly soft skin. Crowley's heart leapt as Ezra leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed and hand moving to overlap Crowley's, pressing it securely against him. The man felt his breath hitch as Ezra's thumb began to softly caress the back of his hand, eyes remaining closed the whole while.

Words danced at the tip of his tongue, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not get them to come out. Instead, Crowley found himself leaning ever closer to the man beside him, reveling in the feeling of breath on skin.

Their lips were mere inches from each other now and Crowley was sure he was about to pass out. There was no way a human heart could beat this quickly and still keep its host alive. Heat rushed to his face and his breaths came out in ragged gasps, but Ezra still did not open his eyes. He was waiting, and Crowley would not disappoint.

The feeling of Ezra's lips on his was pure ecstasy. Fire flooded his veins, filling every crevice in his body with sparkling electricity. Pins and needles danced across every inch of him that was covered by Ezra's skin. Crowley was overwhelmed with feelings of comfort and contentment and a sudden need for more. More contact, more affection. More _Ezra._

Crowley tilted his head, allowing the kiss to deepen. He ran his tongue over the bottom of Ezra's lip, pulling forth a moan from his angel. Immediately, Crowley's free hand found its way to the back of Ezra's curls, gripping them tightly, never wanting to let go.

They were laying on the blanket now, Ezra pinned beneath Crowley's weight. The red haired man still had his hands on the other man's face, cradling it like it was the most important thing in the world. Meanwhile, Ezra's hands had dropped a bit further down and were currently working their way up Crowley's shirt, undoing the buttons one by one.

A groan escaped Crowley's lips as Ezra shifted and their legs brushed up against each other in just the right way. It was maddening, the feelings this man brought forth in him. Crowley felt as if he were drowning in acceptance and affection and desire. He was overcome with it, and as he pulled back momentarily, he could see that his angel felt the same. Ezra's bright blue eyes were alight with emotion as he gazed up at Crowley, his expression of adoration unwavering.

"Anthony," the man began, breathless. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from prolonged contact with Crowley's. He wanted to lean down and capture those heavenly lips again and kiss Ezra until the sun went down, but the man refrained. Ezra had something important to say, and Crowley would be damned if he ever missed an opportunity to hear him speak his mind.

"Yes, angel?" he breathed, littering kisses along the other man's nose, across his jawline, down his neck. Ezra's breathing became even more intense and his hands squeezed tightly around Crowley's hips. Desire burned through him again, but Crowley held himself back this time. He would let Ezra speak.

"Anthony," the man tried again as Crowley buried his face in Ezra's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of old books and tea leaves. He would never grow tired of this feeling. Crowley wanted to stay like this forever. Here, with Ezra, lying in the summer sun, sharing kisses and touches and warmth was everything he'd ever wanted. This had to be Heaven, for there was nothing in existence that could be better.

"Anthony, there's something I need to tell you. I need you to look at me, my dear, when I say it. Can you do that for me?"

Gingerly, the man lifted his head. Blue eyes found him and Crowley stopped pulling back. He smiled, reaching up a hand to brush the stray curl from Ezra's eyes. What a beautiful, breathtaking creature. Crowley was sure, in that moment, that there never had been, nor ever would be, anyone as beautiful as Ezra Fell.

"Anthony," the blonde haired man sighed blissfully, blue eyes brimming with tears of joy. "Anthony, my beloved Anthony. I need you to know that I - "

A clattering of metal caused Crowley to jolt in surprise. He blinked and suddenly he was lying in his bed, covers drawn up around him, sunlight streaming in through the windows.

This wasn't right. What happened to the creek? The picnic basket? He felt around in the bed next to him. Where was Ezra?

Crowley closed his eyes, mind instantly returning to the feel of the soft blanket beneath his knees, the smooth skin of his angel pressed up against him. Like a ghost, the sensations were fading and Crowley desperately tried to grab onto them and bring them back. The harder he tried, the quicker they drifted out of his reach until he was left wide awake in an empty bedroom, with a parched mouth, the beginnings of a headache, and a very inconvenient problem that would need to be dealt with before he could venture out into the rest of the house.

"Ah, A-Anthony!" Ezra exclaimed when Crowley finally emerged into the kitchen sometime later. The man had cleaned himself up a bit, putting on a fresh shirt and pair of trousers. He'd combed his hair and taken care of his beard in an attempt to freshen himself up a bit and get his head away from those pesky dreams. "I didn't realize you were up yet."

"Some loud clattering woke me up," Crowley grumbled, instantly regretting his tone when he saw Ezra's face fall.

"Sorry," the man mumbled, averting his eyes. "I dropped one of the pans on accident earlier. I didn't mean to wake you."

He sounded absolutely heartbroken, which was ridiculous considering it was nearly nine in the morning, well past the time Crowley should be sleeping, and the noise had been a complete accident. Crowley didn't hold it against the man. He doubted he could ever hold anything against Ezra.

_My angel._ Crowley's mind drifted back to the previous night. The two had sat at this very table together in an attempt to enjoy a cup of tea before bed. He had done something to upset Ezra then too. All night, the man had tried to figure out what had gone wrong, and he'd come up empty handed.

Crowley had made a point to thank Ezra for all that he had done for Adam. He had praised the man for a job well done and pointed out how much joy their little play had brought about. Instead of bringing forth that bright smile he enjoyed so much from the man, Ezra had looked almost sorrowful.

Most of the time, Crowley chose not to follow his instincts. They were often wrong and doing so usually got him into trouble with the people around him. This time, however, he'd decided to take a chance. He'd asked Ezra what was wrong. _Something _had been bothering him since dinnertime. And instead of opening up, the man had started crying.

He should have backed off then. Crowley should have taken the hint and left things well enough alone, but he hadn't. He'd felt such a strong desire in that moment to comfort Ezra, that everything else had left his mind. Consequences be damned.

The pain that had shot through him when Ezra had pulled away from his touch still echoed in Crowley's chest, even now. He didn't understand. What had he done wrong? Ezra had touched his arm in comfort when they'd first arrived at the cottage. How had this been any different? Why hadn't the man wanted Crowley's touch? And why did knowing that fact hurt so damn much?

So, no touching. He could handle that, right? They could still spend time together. They could still enjoy each other's presence. There didn't have to be any touching if Ezra didn't want that. Crowley was a big boy. He could learn to keep his hands to himself. He would do anything, even if it meant never feeling the man's soft skin again, so long as he kept Ezra Fell in his life.

"I'm sorry," Crowley began, and he meant every bit of that apology. _I'm sorry I drove you away. I'm sorry I read the signals wrong. I'm sorry I moved too fast._

"I didn't mean to snap at you. It was just a rough night, is all."

Ezra looked up at him then, blue eyes brimming with tears. Crowley was overwhelmed with the need to wrap his arms around the man and draw him into a tight embrace. He forced the feelings back down, the fear of losing Ezra overcoming everything else.

_Damn. _Why did it hurt so much to be around him? How could he be so close to the bookshop owner and feel millions of miles away? How was he going to survive this?

"Adam and I are going out to fly a kite today," the man said, abruptly changing the subject. "He's upstairs getting ready now."

"That's nice," Crowley responded, not really paying any attention to the implication of Ezra's words. He was too focused on the fact that he'd just now realized that the blonde man standing before him was still dressed in his nightclothes and was currently standing over a hot stove.

"Are you making pancakes?" Crowley asked curiously, breathing in the air around him. They certainly didn't smell like pancakes.

"Crepes," Ezra responded without skipping a beat. "Did you want to go with us, Anthony? I am sure that Adam would love it if you were there."

Crowley felt his stomach drop. The thought of accompanying Adam and Ezra that day filled him with a duality of excitement and fear. He wanted nothing more than for the three of them to spend time together. It didn't matter what they decided to do: hiking, building a kite, going for a picnic. As long as they did it together, he would be happy.

Visions of the dream came back to him in a wave and Crowley was forced to redirect his attention. If he looked at Ezra right now, he might notice the soft expression on the man's face or the soft curve of his face and lips and Crowley might do something stupid and lose the man forever.

_No touching, _he reminded himself.

Then his thoughts drifted to Adam and the heat that had entered his mind froze, vanishing completely. Crowley must have made some sort of face because Ezra appeared instantly by his side, pulling out the chair next to him so they could be face to face.

It took all of the man's courage to gaze up into those dazzling blue eyes.

"What's wrong, Anthony?"

How is this fair? How is it that Ezra could drop everything to come to his aid, but when Crowley tried to comfort the man, Ezra ran away? What was it about them that was so fundamentally different that made Ezra want to push him away?

Wasn't it obvious? Ezra was kindness. He was goodness and compassion and it was second nature for him to help people. There wasn't anything special about Crowley. Ezra would come to anyone's aid and try and comfort them. But Crowley? He was a broken mess. Ezra knew that - the man had _seen_ him at his very worst, multiple times. Of course he didn't want to be comforted by Crowley. Who in their right mind would?

Was there anything that he could do to show Ezra how much he wanted to be there for him? Would opening up more allow the blonde haired man to let Crowley closer? It hadn't worked before, but maybe Crowley hadn't talked about the right things. Maybe this time, things would be different.

"I'm not sure it is the best idea for me to come along with you and Adam today," Crowley began, wanting desperately to look away, but finding he could not. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ezra's fist tighten against his lap. "You'll have a much better time without me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" The question could have come out as accusatory or incredulous, but coming from Ezra, it was nothing but sympathetic.

Crowley took a deep breath, glancing behind him to check for any sign of Adam. He was thankfully still upstairs. "Ezra…" he trailed off, not really knowing how to put this into words. He'd never once said it out loud before. The man beside him shifted in his chair, but did not turn away as Crowley continued. "I don't know how to be what Adam wants me to be."

It was a lame explanation, but Crowley couldn't think of any other way to say it. He also didn't know how to react when Ezra's eyes went wide in shock.

"What?" the man asked, incredulously. "Anthony, Adam just wants you to be _there. _To be his father."

"Yeah," Crowley pressed, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple. "That's my point, though, isn't it? You have to understand - I wasn't around much when Adam was little." The man sighed, unable to look at Ezra any longer. Unable to bear the shame. "You know me, Ezra. You know the kind of things I've been dealing with since I got back. I'm a stranger to Adam, and I fear I always will be. He's much better off with someone like you. I'd only get in the way."

"Of all of the idiotic things - " Crowley's eyes snapped up. He had never heard Ezra angry before, but there was no other way to interpret those words. The man's face was contorted, not in rage, but something akin to disbelief and confusion. "You'll only be a stranger to him if you keep not trying. Adam cares for you. He talks about you all the time. He wants to know you."

"But why?" And that was the heart of the issue, wasn't it? Why would his son ever want to know him? "I've given him nothing but a lifetime of failures, Ezra. I couldn't care for him when he was small. I drove his mother away. I couldn't even stay sane enough to let him be in his own home. We had to come out here, in the middle of nowhere for me to be an even semi-functional human being."

Tears pricked at his eyes, but Crowley brushed them away. "I couldn't bear to disappoint him more than I already have."

Ezra's expression softened. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to reach out and take Crowley's hand. The man's breath stilled. Maybe if he didn't move, Ezra wouldn't realize what he was doing - who he was touching. Maybe it was alright if Ezra touched him, just not the other way around. Crowley would take whatever he could get.

"Then take the opportunity to know your son." He didn't reach out with his hands, but Crowley felt touched, all the same.

"I - " his voice hitched in his throat. "I don't know how."

And then Ezra smiled, and Crowley knew it was going to be alright. His anxieties melted away under that warm gaze and he found himself enraptured by it. Hesitantly, not having any idea what he was about to agree to, Crowley smiled back.

"Let me teach you."


	11. Let's Fly a Kite

"Wait, Adam, just a moment."

The boy looked up at Ezra expectantly, newly made kite dangling from his hands. Ezra reached down and took the object from him. Gently, he pressed the last bit of tape down onto the newspaper, making sure it was as secure as possible.

"We don't want it coming apart, now do we?"

Adam grinned, happily taking the kite back. "Thanks, Mr. Fell!" He rushed over to the front door, pushing it open with a flourish. Ezra winced slightly as the door swung widely and smacked into the outer wall of the cottage. Then, chuckling to himself, Ezra followed the boy out into the comfortable summer afternoon.

"Took you two long enough."

Ezra's heart leapt into his chest at the sound of Anthony's voice. He spotted the man standing by the courtyard gate, hands shoved deep into his pockets, a familiar pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. Even from here, Ezra could sense the man's apprehension. He sent up a silent prayer that things would go well today.

"Are you coming too, Dad?" From where he was walking, Ezra couldn't see the expression on Adam's face, but it would have been impossible to miss the hopefulness in his voice. The boy hurried over to his father, stopping about a foot away as he looked up at the man towering before him.

Anthony looked to Ezra, silently asking what he should do. Without a sound, Ezra stopped walking and squatted down, balancing on his toes. He motioned for Anthony to do the same and gave a small nod of encouragement as the red haired man moved to be level with his son.

"Absolutely," Anthony responded, turning to look Adam in the eyes. The golden orbs were still hidden behind dark sunglasses, but Ezra imagined that as close as father and son were to each other, Adam would still be able to see the outline of his father's eyes. "Who else is going to help you hold the kite up? You know there's no way Mr. Fell could ever run as fast as you."

Adam grinned and Ezra found himself laughing, despite all his efforts to keep quiet. Today was about Anthony and Adam. Nothing else in the world mattered.

They walked side by side down the pathway through the woods, Anthony on the right, Ezra on the left, and Adam skipping along in the middle. A breeze blew by them, ruffling Ezra's curls as it tossed a handful of leaves about. Today was a perfect day for kite flying.

"Mr. Fell?" Adam asked after they'd crested the first hill. There was a clearing in the forest about a half a mile walk from their cottage that Ezra had hoped would be large enough to get their kite up into the air. He and Adam had passed by it on their first day of exploring, but hadn't stopped to inspect it closely. Anthony had seemed to think it an adequate location and that had been good enough for Ezra. "Can you hold this for a while?"

Ezra looked down at the newspaper kite. As they'd been making it, he had asked Adam if the boy was interested in painting it any particular color. They had a handful of paints in the toybox Ezra had brought with them and anything they didn't have, Ezra was sure Anthony would have driven to go get, but the boy had turned him down.

_I don't want to color over the words,_ Adam had said to him as they'd painstakingly laid the tape out, securing the newspaper to the frame. _What if the birds wanted to try and read it?_

Smiling, Ezra took the kite from the boy, tucking his finger gently around the place where the two dowel rods crossed. He looked over at Anthony, who was marching forward, eyes fixed ahead of them. The man had taken his hands out of his pockets and they hung gracefully at his side.

Looking down, Ezra watched with silent wonder as Adam used his now free hand to reach up and grab onto Anthony's. To his credit, the man did not stop walking, but he did look up at Ezra with mild panic written all over his face.

Before Ezra could do anything to calm his friend, Adam reached the other hand up and slipped it into Ezra's. The man almost fainted. Here he was, this wonderful six-almost-seven-year-old boy, walking hand in hand between Ezra and Anthony. It was like an image from a children's book, where the mother and father and child all walk hand in hand down the road in this very same way.

Ezra felt tears pooling in his eyes. He'd gone most of his adult years knowing what his life was destined to be. People like him didn't get to have beautiful things like this. He'd resigned himself to that fact a long time ago. Having it here, now, in this moment was the most wonderful and torturous thing that could have happened to him.

As much as he wanted it to be real, Ezra knew deep down in his soul that they were playing pretend. As much as he loved being here with Anthony and Adam, hiding away in their own little world, he knew it could never last. How much longer did he have in this Heaven? A few days? Another week? How much longer until Anthony decided their holiday was over and it was time to return to London, where Ezra was Adam's tutor, and nothing more.

He wanted to stay here forever.

"Look!" Adam shouted, releasing their hands and reaching for the kite. Ezra quickly handed it over, using his freed hands to wipe the moisture from his eyes before Anthony could see. As they approached the clearing, Ezra felt the man draw closer to him, both stopping as the trees turned into a flat, wide open space.

"He's never done that before," Anthony murmured in Ezra's ear. The proximity sent shivers down his spine. A fierce desire began to burn within Ezra and he was torn. Torn between running far away and stepping closer to wrap his arms around the man's waist. This close, Ezra could smell Anthony's distinct scent. It reminded him of burnt cedar and a medley of autumn spices.

"See?" Ezra couldn't help whispering back. "Adam is ready and willing to know you, Anthony. You just have to let yourself be open to it." Both men looked up at the boy who was currently standing in the middle of the field. The kite lay on the ground beside him as he worked to unravel the string.

The sudden need to touch Anthony began to overwhelm Ezra. Surely, a light touch on the arm wouldn't hurt, would it?

Using all the bravery he could muster, the blonde haired man reached up and placed his hand gently on Anthony's arm, right above the crook in his elbow. The man turned to look at him, eyes obscured by the sunglasses. Had Ezra imagined the soft sigh coming from Anthony's lips? Had he felt the man lean into his touch, or had that been a trick of his own imagination?

"Go," Ezra urged softly, pulling away from Anthony once more. "Your son is waiting."

With one last lingering look, Anthony strode down the field toward his son. Ezra's heart filled with joy and love as Adam looked up and, upon seeing his father, broke out into the widest grin. Once Anthony reached him, Ezra saw him squat down to eye level and begin talking to the boy. From this distance, it would be impossible to hear what was being said, but based on the gestures and pointing, Anthony's meaning was easy enough to understand. He was explaining to Adam the proper way to fly a kite.

As he watched, Ezra began to wonder. Had Anthony done this when he was a child? The man hardly spoke at all about his childhood. In fact, the only thing Ezra knew about it was that his family used to come here during the summertime holiday. It was very possible that some twenty-five years ago, a young red haired boy had raced around this very field with newspaper kite of his very own.

"Faster, Dad!" Ezra heard Adam shout, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boy was clinging to the spool of thread, running across the field. His father held the kite up above his head long legs flying across the grass behind his son. "Faster!"

Anthony picked up the pace. "Let it out some more, Adam!" The boy did as he was told and the distance between father and son grew. When the string was out a significant amount and taught enough that it was almost a straight line, Anthony let go. "Keep running, Adam! Run as fast as you can and don't look back."

The kite rose several feet in the air, before doing a nose dive into the dirt.

Ezra chuckled as Adam stomped back over to the dead object, his face furrowed in a scowl. Anthony was beside him in an instant, showing the boy how to respool the thread so they could try again.

It took them three more tries before the kite decided to remain in the air. When Anthony saw it was going to work, he changed course, running faster than Ezra had ever seen him run before, over to his son to make sure he kept the kite under control. The boy slowed to a walk and turned to look at the collection of newspaper and rods rising up higher and higher above the trees.

He gave out a cheer of victory, fist pumping in the air. Ezra looked on in amusement, marveling at how at peace Anthony looked. His chest was heaving back and forth, likely trying to catch his breath from all that running. His face was flushed, sunglasses mysteriously nowhere to be seen. Ezra must have missed them falling off in all the excitement.

"What are you doing?" Ezra turned to look at the man. Anthony waved his hand, beckoning him over. "Come join us."

Ezra walked across the grass to join them, careful not to trip over any strange lumps of dirt or roots poking out of the earth. How had these two not fallen flat on their faces while running at top speed? The ground was a lot less flat than he had originally thought, now that he was standing overtop of it.

"Splendid job, my dear," Ezra praised, looking down at Adam. The boy beamed, then turned back to his kite, tugging gently on the string to guide it. "You were wonderful as well, Anthony."

Was that a blush appearing on the man's cheeks? Or simply the result of several minutes of constant running? Anthony's breaths were still noticeably more labored. He supposed the color could also have come from the sun. With fair skin like his, Ezra assumed Anthony burned pretty easily.

"Yeah, well." The man shoved his hands into his pockets once more, an air of nonchalance clinging to him. "All I had to do was keep up with this one. Adam did all the real work."

"Dad!" Adam said, interrupting their comfortable silence. "Can we go get ice cream? Remember, we passed that place when we drove through town."

"Hmmm…" the man mused, bringing a hand up to his chin. Adam spun around and gave his father a wide-eyed pleading look. Ezra chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. "Ice cream, before dinner? I think that sounds like a brilliant idea."

Adam moved to start reeling in the kite, to Ezra's surprise. "You're done with the kite already?"

The boy nodded. "The fun bit is getting it up in the air. Once it's up there, it gets boring."

Anthony laughed beside him, causing Ezra's heart to flutter in his chest. What a glorious sound. How he yearned to hear it every day.

"Right you are, kid," Anthony stated, proudly. He had this look on his face that made Ezra suspect that he might have said the very same thing about kite flying, once upon a time. Long arms reached down as graceful fingers found their way into Adam's wild brown curls. Anthony ruffled his son's hair affectionately, and Ezra noted that it looked like the most natural thing in the world. The gentle gesture, the easy smile that rested on Anthony's face. His heart couldn't handle this much tenderness.

"I'll race you back to the house."

* * *

True to his word, Anthony took them to get ice cream. They each got a cone and sat out on the front patio, watching the people go by. Anthony and Adam sat side by side, shoulders brushing up against each other, trading cones back and forth every few minutes because they hadn't been able to decide on which flavor to get on their own.

After ice cream, the trio wandered around town, looking into all of the little shops along their way. Adam spotted a diner tucked away next to a bookshop and they decided to stop for dinner. Afterward, to Ezra's delight, Adam practically dragged him into the store, even though the man would have gone there of his own free will.

The drive home was quiet, and once again after a busy day, Adam fell asleep. When they pulled into the drive, Anthony got out of the car and walked around to open the door for Ezra before he could do so himself. A twinge of disappointment passed through Ezra as he realized that this time, Anthony did not offer him his hand. They were once again hiding deep in his pants pockets.

"Would you like to take him up this time?" Ezra asked gently, stepping back to allow Anthony access to his son. The man hesitated, looking back at Ezra with wide amber eyes. So unsure, so fearful of doing something wrong.

"What if I wake him?" The words were barely a whisper. A breath upon the wind.

Ezra smiled encouragingly. Anthony needn't have been worried. He'd done so well today. After his initial hesitation when they'd first left the house to go on their hike, everything he'd done had been his own doing. His interactions with Adam had been so natural. If he hadn't known better, Ezra would have assumed their relationship had been like that for Adam's whole life.

"It's alright if you do," he whispered back, nodding his head in Adam's direction. "He'll fall back asleep quickly."

Taking a deep breath, Anthony stepped forward. He pulled his son gently from the car, careful not to jostle him too much. The boy groaned slightly and snuggled his head into his father's neck, arms and legs wrapping around the man out of habit. This had happened enough that even in his sleep, Adam knew what to do.

For a moment, Anthony stopped, he turned to face Ezra, the child balanced carefully in his arms. Ezra felt his face beginning to flush as the amber eyes fell on his. There was so much emotion swirling within their depths that the man didn't know where to start.

They were standing fairly close now - close enough that Ezra could see the rise and fall of Anthony's chest as Adam moved with it. If he leaned in just a little closer, he could even start to spot the individual freckles that adorned the man's nose.

The utter perfection of this moment did not escape Ezra. Anthony, holding young Adam gently in his arms as the boy slept under a starry sky. Beautiful, fun-loving Anthony, whose smile lit up Ezra's life and whose words sent shivers down his spine. If only he were brave enough, Ezra would place his hands on the man's shoulder and rise up on his tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on Anthony's lips. If only he were brave enough. If only he didn't have so much to lose.

Instead, Ezra took a step away from the man, turning his attention to the door leading into their temporary home. No matter how much he wanted to, the man did not turn to look behind him for fear that his resolve would break if he did.

Ezra followed Anthony upstairs, just in case the red haired man needed his support. His concern went unfounded. Anthony handled everything like he'd been doing it Adam's whole life. He laid the boy down on the bed, slowly slipped off his shoes and even managed to get him under the covers without Adam so much as opening an eye.

"Goodnight, Adam," Anthony whispered into the dark room as he hovered over the sleeping form of his son. In the darkness, it was hard to tell, but Ezra thought he saw the boy smile.

Anthony turned toward Ezra with a look of uncertainty on his face. The blonde man gave him a gentle wave, signaling that it was probably alright to leave now, if he wanted to. Anthony breathed a sigh of relief and took a single step forward.

"Dad?" the small voice murmured as Anthony's foot landed on a particularly creaky board. Ezra winced. He should have warned the man about that spot before letting him walk in the room. Anthony froze, like he'd been caught doing something wrong. Slowly, he turned back to his son.

A small hand reached up and grabbed onto the man's fingers, squeezing gently. Ezra smiled from the sweetness of it al.

"Yes, Adam?" Anthony's voice was shaky at best, his apprehension and uncertainty shining through. Slowly he moved to sit at the edge of Adam's bed, careful not to squish the boy's feet.

"I love you, Dad."

Tears pooled in Ezra's eyes as he heard the breath hitch in Anthony's throat. It was impossible to see the rest of the scene unfold through his blurred vision and the darkness of the room, but Ezra didn't need to. He and Anthony both understood the significance of this moment. In the almost seven years he'd been alive, Adam had never told anyone he loved them before.

"I - " Anthony's voice broke with emotion and it was all Ezra could do to stifle his sob of joy. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He would not ruin this moment for the two of them. He would keep his goddamn emotions under control and experience them in silence.

"I love you too, son."


	12. A Trip to the Zoo

It had been Anathema's idea to go to the zoo. She had phoned on a Saturday morning and Ezra had been the one to pick up. Crowley had been sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper in one hand, cup of coffee in the other when the bell had sounded. He thought about getting up for a moment, but in the time it took for him to consider the action, Ezra was already on his feet. Crowley watched as the other man hurried over to the phone, his hands rubbing together as they always did when he got nervous. Crowley thought it was adorable.

_Shit. _The man glowered and went back to his paper. _What the hell is wrong with you?_

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Crowley saw Ezra pause, placing his hand over the mouthpiece before turning to face him. Slowly, the red haired man turned to look at his friend, eyebrows arched in an unspoken question.

"Anathema has invited us to the zoo. She and Newton plan to leave in an hour or so."

Crowley huffed. So much for decent notice. He was about to open his mouth to respond when Adam rushed into the kitchen, still clothed in his pajamas, hair sticking up wildly, eyes wide with excitement.

"Did you say we're going to the zoo?!"

And that was how, at 10 am on a Saturday morning, Crowley found himself with his son, his friend, and two of their neighbors standing in front of a pen full of meerkats.

"Now," Ezra began again, launching himself into yet another speech about the animal they happened to be observing at the moment. "The meerkat is a member of the mongoose family. They are native to Africa and eat primarily insects, but have been known to go after other smaller creatures, like lizards, some types of snakes, and scorpions."

How was it possible this man knew so many random facts about so many animals? They'd seen about a dozen different ones so far, and there hadn't been one that Ezra had been unfamiliar with.

At least Adam was enjoying himself. He hung onto Ezra's every word, soaking up the information like a sponge. The boy also asked nearly half a dozen questions per animal and Ezra had an answer to all of them. The man was a walking encyclopedia.

"Who should we go visit next?" Anathema asked the group, although Crowley knew the question was really directed at Adam.

"Can we go see the tigers?"

So they went to see the tigers. Adam ran on ahead, dragging Ezra along with him. Crowley thought, momentarily, about picking up his pace to keep in line with them, but he eventually decided against it. He was having a harder and harder time these days keeping his thoughts from straying to Ezra. They'd been at the cottage a little over a week and already Crowley was feeling his resolve beginning to crumble.

Just the other afternoon, he'd been helping Ezra clear the table after lunch and had accidentally brushed the man's fingers with his own when he'd taken the plates out of his hand. Ezra had actually uttered a 'squeak' and would have dropped the whole stack if Crowley's hand hadn't already been firmly around it. His face had turned bright scarlet and even now, Crowley didn't understand how he had resisted the temptation to wrap his free hand in the man's blonde curls and draw him into a passionate kiss.

Instead of rushing to catch up with Adam and Ezra, Crowley chose to fall back in line with Anathema and Newton. They were taking this outing at a much slower pace, choosing to linger as they passed by each of the animals present. As Crowley watched, he realized that neither one of them seemed to be truly interested in the animals they were supposed to be visiting. Instead, the couple seemed to be in a heated discussion about something else entirely He didn't quite know what ley lines were, but Crowley was pretty sure they had nothing to do with tigers.

"Why did you two want to come to the zoo anyway?" he finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Anathema turned toward him, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

"We wanted to spend more time with the three of you," she explained. "Newton and I work during the week, so Saturdays and Sundays are our only days we have free. And we weren't sure when you were planning on going back to London. We wanted to see you again at least one more time before you returned."

That all made sense, except for one key part. "Yeah," Crowley shrugged, trying to hide how touched he was that this couple seemed to like them so much. He was almost positive it was Ezra and Adam they were drawn to, but part of him could still fool himself into thinking they might enjoy his company too. "But why here? What's so special about a bunch of animals?"

Newton was the one who answered this time. "We weren't really sure what you liked and it seemed like the sort of place they might enjoy."

All three sets of eyes turned up the road toward Ezra and Adam who had just reached the tiger cage and were currently making funny faces at one of the large cats to try and coax him over. Crowley smiled, a familiar warmth blossoming in his chest.

"They really are two very special people," Anathema remarked, her voice lowering in volume as they drew closer to the strange pair. "I've never met anyone like either of them."

Crowley nodded. She was right. Ezra and Adam were one in a million. He couldn't believe he'd been lucky enough to have been gifted with both of them in his life, even if he wished his relationship with one of them was a bit different.

"Look, Dad!" Adam exclaimed, pointing at one of the cats asleep by the pool. He was lying in the shade, paws splayed out in front of him. Crowley looked to where Adam was gesturing, not entirely sure what he was supposed to be seeing. "His tail's floating on the water."

And so it was. Crowley hadn't noticed it before, nor did he understand why that fact was so important to his son, but he supposed it didn't matter. As long as Adam was happy, Crowley would have a good time.

"Are there any snakes in this place?" Crowley asked after nearly fifteen minutes of staring at the sleeping creatures. Adam couldn't seem to get enough of them, which made no sense because they weren't doing anything. All they made Crowley want to do was curl up somewhere warm and take a nap.

He saw Ezra stiffen beside him. Crowley's eyes went wide.

"Don't tell me," he began, the grin already forming on his face. This day had just turned itself completely around. "Ezra Fell, are you afraid of snakes?"

"N-no!" the man spluttered, the lie so obviously tumbling from his lips. "It's not that I'm afraid of them. They just make me uncomfortable, is all. And I've never been the best at telling which ones are helpful and which ones can kill me, so I just try and keep all at a distance."

This was too perfect. Without thinking, Crowley reached out his hand in an attempt to drag Ezra with him. He stopped short when he saw a look of panic flash through the man's bright blue eyes.

_No touching._

Damn. Why was that so difficult for him to remember? Ezra seemed to have no issues with Adam holding onto his hand or running up for a random hug. It was heartwarming how much this man obviously loved his son. Crowley could understand why. He'd only spent just over a week with Adam and already there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the boy.

The issue was obviously Crowley. Ezra didn't seem to act this way with Newton or Anathema either. When they'd swung by earlier to pick up the couple, Ezra had gone as far as to get out of the car and greet the pair with a friendly hug. He never hugged Crowley. And why would he want to? Crowley was a broken man, suffering from night terrors, haunted by the things he'd done. He drank too much, lost his temper, pushed away everyone in his life. He was a man that, up until a few days ago, didn't even know how to properly interact with his own son.

No wonder Ezra didn't want anything to do with him.

"Come on, Ezra," he offered, shoving his traitorous hands deep into his pockets. "I thought this whole trip was supposed to be educational." He hoped his tone came across as teasing, and wasn't conveying any of the disappointment welling up inside of him. "The boy needs to know about snakes."

Ezra's face softened. Crowley thought he saw a hint of sadness in the man's eyes, but that didn't make much sense. What would he have to be sad about? He must have imagined it. "Alright, Anthony."

Adam cheered. For him, it didn't seem to matter what kind of animal they went to go visit. He was enjoying them all. Without warning, the boy took off down the path they'd come from, speeding ahead of the rest of the group.

Crowley turned to look at Ezra, shooting him an amused look. "I'd better go wrangle him up. Meet you by the snakes?"

Ezra just nodded his head, glancing away. Crowley felt his stomach plummet. What had he done this time? The man's demeanor wasn't because of the snakes, was it? Then what had happened? Why couldn't Ezra stand to look at him. He'd thought they were becoming friends. Had he been mistaken?

Deciding this was something that could be worried about later, Crowley rushed down the path, only coming to a halt when Adam was right beside him. He looked down at his son, brown curls waving wildly in the wind, and smiled. "Do you even know where you're going?"

Adam shook his head. "Nope," he responded, putting emphasis on the 'p'.

Crowley rolled his eyes, grabbing onto Adam's hand so the boy didn't rush off while they found someone to ask for directions.

Ten minutes later, the five of them found themselves standing outside of a moderately sized wooden structure. One of the zoo's employees was standing outside, a decently sized ball python wrapped around his arm. The second he spotted it, Adam rushed up and began bombarding the man with questions.

"Inquisitive kid, isn't he?" Anathema asked as she came to stand by Crowley. He smiled, watching the excitement rolling off his son in waves. The boy was certainly a handful, but he was the biggest blessing Crowley had ever received. He didn't deserve a son like Adam, but he sure as hell wasn't going to say that out loud. No need for the universe to realize it had made a mistake.

"Sometimes, there's a moment when he stops and I think perhaps he's run out of questions. Turns out he's just stopping to get some air into his lungs."

Anathema laughed. From the corner of his eye, Crowley spotted her reach down and take Newton's hand in her own. The man's stomach twisted. It was so easy for them. So second nature. Why couldn't he have something like that? Crowley glanced over at Ezra, who had moved to stand beside Adam. He must have decided that the boy's thirst for knowledge was more important than the man's apprehension of snakes. What Crowley wouldn't give to be able to reach down and take that hand into his own.

It just wasn't fair.

"Would any of you like to hold her?" the zookeeper asked after a while. "She doesn't bite."

Crowley waited a few seconds to see if anyone else showed an interest. When no one stepped forward, he approached the man, holding out his arms for the snake to slide into. He watched with wonder as the muscles around her midsection coiled and released, pushing her forward as she curled around his arm, settling into the crook of his elbow.

"Can I pet her, Dad?" Adam asked curiously. Remembering what Ezra had taught him a few days ago, Crowley squatted down to be at eye level with his son. He extended an arm so the snake's body was right in front of Adam. Gently the boy lifted a hand and ran his fingertips across her brown and black scales.

"She's so soft."

The red haired man smiled. He then glanced up at Ezra, who was standing a few feet away. Slowly, Crowley rose to his feet and took a few steps forward. The man, dressed in his usual tan suit and ridiculous tartan bow tie, looked over at Crowley hesitantly, but he did not step away as the man approached.

Crowley stopped less than a foot away from Ezra, holding out his snake-wrapped arm. The constrictor had shifted around and was now halfway up to his shoulder. Her small head swiveled around toward Ezra, black tongue flicking about in the air.

"I promise," Crowley murmured softly, trying not to let the closeness between the two of them get to his head. "She's harmless."

Ezra squeezed his blue eyes shut and held out a hand, fingers hovering about an inch over the creature's scaled back. The hand was shaking and it looked as though the man was struggling to overcome whatever fears he had associated with this creature.

Without thinking, Crowley reached out his free hand and placed it over Ezra's, gently lowering it until the tips of Ezra's fingers rested on the snake's scales. He focused his gaze on Ezra's face, anxiously awaiting what the man would do.

His blue eyes opened and Crowley found himself staring into an ocean of uncertainty and something else he could not place. Ezra's hand was still shaking, but as Crowley gently guided it down the length of the snake's body, the tremors quickly ceased.

Ezra did not pull his hand away.

After everyone had their chance to hold and pet the snake, the five decided that their stomachs were certainly hungry enough to grab a bite to eat.

"There was a small bakery where we came in," Newton pointed out. "And some picnic tables. We could probably eat there."

Together, they grabbed a few sandwiches, fruit tarts, and a cookie for Adam and found a nice shady spot under a large oak tree. Crowley picked at his food quietly, his attention focused on Ezra and Adam joyfully discussing their favorite part of the day so far.

"I liked the alligator best," the boy announced before shoving one of the tarts into his mouth all at once. It was a miracle the whole thing even fit. Crowley was sure the boy was going to choke on it, but Adam chewed away without a care in the world.

"Really?" he heard Ezra ask, surprise leaking into his voice. "I would have guessed you would have said the tigers."

Adam shook his head. They had to wait a few more moments before he could clear his mouth enough to answer. "All the tigers did was sleep. I got to see the alligators splashing around. It was really cool."

"What about you, Ezra?" Anathema asked, a suspicious look in her eye. "What was your favorite part?"

The man actually looked away from her, to Crowley's surprise. Was he embarrassed? Whatever for?

"Well," he started, suddenly finding his sandwich quite interesting. "If I had to choose, I'd pick the snakes actually. They were pleasantly surprising."

Crowley was dumbfounded. Out of all the animals they'd seen, Ezra's favorite had been the snakes? He'd been so adamant against even seeing them. And even after Crowley had finally gotten the man to touch one, he still hadn't wanted to hold her. Why was that experience suddenly his favorite?

"Oh," the blonde haired man continued, looking up at Newton who was sitting across from him. "Newton, my dear, you've got some mustard on your chin." Without a second thought, the man leaned forward and used his napkin to wipe it off. Newton shrugged in thanks, then dove right back into his food.

"Dad?" Adam piped up as he shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. "Can I go play with the other kids?"

Crowley looked over to where the boy was gesturing. There appeared to be some sort of makeshift playground - a pair of swings, some stumps placed around with logs crossing over them. A handful of children were climbing around on them, laughing and playing with each other.

"Sure." Crowley didn't care if Adam wanted to take some time to play. It wasn't like they had anywhere else to be. "Just wait until either Ezra or I finish eating and we'll go with you."

"I could take him," Newton piped up. Crowley looked down to see he had, in fact, cleared every bit of food within a two foot radius of himself. "I'm already done. That way he wouldn't have to wait."

Crowley simply nodded and Adam raced off with Newton in tow. Anathema gazed after her fiance, smiling softly to herself.

"How did you two meet?" he found himself asking, surprised that he actually cared. It seemed like a much more 'Ezra' type question to ask.

"At University," Anathema explained. "I was in the history department, he was studying journalism. We had classes in the same building sometimes. I think the first time I even talked to him was during our third year, after he tripped and fell down a flight of stairs." She smiled at the memory.

"Did you stop to help him up?" Ezra asked, a wistful look on his face. Crowley rolled his eyes. What a romantic.

Anathema laughed. "Quite the opposite, actually. I told him he should invest in an inflatable body suit."

Crowley found himself grinning. He knew there was a reason he liked this girl.

"Are you all finished?" Ezra asked a little while later into their conversation. He reached forward to grab the bits of trash scattered about the table. "I'll just go and take these to the waste bin."

Crowley moved to object, wanting to point out that he was perfectly capable of throwing his own waste away, thank you very much, but the soft smile on Ezra's face stopped him in his tracks. Wordlessly, he handed it over.

"So," he said, turning to Anathema once Ezra had walked a few steps away. "What is it the two of you do, exactly?"

The woman smiled. "Newton writes for the Crawley Observer, and I compile research and write history textbooks for Universities all over England."

"Do you enjoy your work?" Crowley always found it interesting what careers people chose for their lives and how they got there. He'd been an investment banker for ten years now, but as a child had always wanted to open his own flower shop. Crowley had loved gardening, ever since he'd been a little boy. In the summers, when his mother and father had brought him to the cottage, he used to spend all morning outside with his mother, potting and trimming and weeding. Gardening was cathartic. It made him happy, but it didn't pay the bills.

Anathema nodded. "Most days. It can get boring at times. Those are the times I have to remind myself that the job is only as boring as I let it be. If I get tired with a certain topic, then it's time to change it up a bit."

"What about you?" she asked after a moment of silence.

Crowley shrugged. "The job's alright, most days. It certainly wasn't my first career choice, but the work keeps me busy." It paid well too, not that he needed the money. Crowley came from a particularly wealthy english family. He could choose to never work another day in his life and still have plenty of money left to will to Adam when he died. The only reason the man stayed at his desk job was that his wife had very high standards.

Now that Lilith was gone, maybe he should start looking into a job change.

"Leave him alone!"

Adam's panicked cry had Crowley on high alert in an instant. His eyes immediately found his son over in the play area. The boy was racing toward the side of the bakery, intent on something happening over there. Crowley was on his feet before he even realized it, racing over to his son even as he watched Newton lunge forward and wrap his long arms around the boy's waist. Adam screamed, lashing out at the man holding him back, but Newton's grip did not falter.

Crowley's eyes then began searching for Ezra. Had he seen what had happened? Did he know why Adam was so upset? Crowley had witnessed his son have a meltdown before, weeks ago. The man didn't know if he would be able to calm Adam down, but he was sure Ezra would be able to. Now, where did that man disappear to?

Too slowly, his gaze drifted over in the direction Adam was struggling toward. The dumpsters at the side of the bakery were tall and obscured part of his view. Crowley couldn't see what was going on, but he heard several distinct voices as he approached.

"Stop making such a fuss, pansy."

"You know you deserve this, bugger. Filth like you ought to be punished."

There was an obvious groan of pain and Crowley felt his blood run cold. He rounded the corner just in time to see three young men, dressed in grey suits and matching flat caps, crowding around a figure that was currently curled up on the ground. Two of the men were wailing on the fallen one, their shoes slamming into his legs, his back, his stomach. The third man had squatted down and currently had his fingers entwined in a head of golden curls as he dragged the fallen man's bloody face up to look at his own.

"Remember this," he spat. "When you get to where you're going, you'll be _wishing _it was us who was torturing you."

Crowley caught sight of a pair of blue eyes and rage overcame him.

"Get your bloody hands off of him!" he roared, pushing the two other men aside in his attempt to tackle the man who was obviously their leader. He felt a hand grab at his shoulder, and Crowley shrugged it off, murder in his eyes.

He was going to kill every last one of them for daring to lay a finger on his angel.

"I don't think so."

Anathema's voice sounded behind him, pulling Crowley out of his madness. He was still furious, but at least now he could think more clearly. Anathema had placed herself facing outward with her back to his. She was positioned between him and the other two men, providing a barrier they were at least hesitant to cross. Crowley had no doubt that these men would have taken him down without question, but when faced with a girl, especially one as pretty as Anathema, they hesitated.

He would have to remember to thank her later.

"Let him go," Crowley commanded taking a step forward, filling each and every word with the rage that currently flowed through his body. His hands were shaking at his sides, both from overwhelming fury and heartstopping fear. What had they done to Ezra? Why?

Thankfully, the leader let go of Ezra's hair and moved to stand, chuckling darkly as he turned his attention to Crowley. "A fine gentleman such as yourself, standing up for this faggot? Maybe I should take care of you next."

Was that what this was all about? These men had attacked Ezra because they thought he was gay? Preposterous. Crowley had assumed they'd been trying to mug him or something. What other reason would anyone have to attack the man? He was so kind and genuine, the likelihood that he'd said something to piss them off was non-existent.

"What the fuck are you on about?" In the back of his mind, Crowley hoped Newton had removed Adam from the area. He didn't want his son to see more than he already had. "What could have possibly caused you to think that this man was gay? What could he have possibly done to you?"

The leader sneered. "We saw 'im earlier. Touchin' on that man's face," he grunted, nodding toward the play area where Newton must still be standing.

"That man is my fiance," Anathema bristled, gesturing to where Newton must be. Crowley understood her desire to make sure these men didn't go after him later, but he really wished she would know what to do to get them out of this situation. Ezra looked to be in pretty bad shape and the sooner Crowley could assess his friend's injuries, the sooner he would stop feeling like he was about to pass out.

"We 'eard 'im sayin' stuff too," one of the other men suggested.

Crowley huffed. "What could he have said other than 'pardon me' or a pleasant 'good afternoon'? The man doesn't have a lewd bone in his body."

"He came onto us!" the third man growled, disgust evident in his voice. "Called us 'dear'."

Crowley would have laughed if the situation weren't so dire. He felt sick to his stomach. "He calls everyone 'dear', you shit for brains! It doesn't mean anything!"

Everyone except Crowley, that is, but these men didn't need to know that small detail. They remained silent for a moment and Crowley tried to figure out what to do. He'd stopped them from continuing to hurt Ezra, but they weren't out of hot water yet. If the men chose to fight them, he and Anathema were severely outmatched.

"Get out of here," the woman commanded, taking charge of the situation, "before we have the good sense to call the coppers on you for unwarranted assault."

This seemed to do it for them. They obviously decided that a confrontation with the police wasn't worth their time. Without another word, the three men stalked away. Once he was sure they weren't going to turn back, Crowley fell to his knees wanting to pull Ezra into his arms, but unsure how much damage had been done. He would hate to cause the man more pain.

A bruise was already forming around Ezra's left eye. His nose was bleeding and there was a nasty gash at the corner of his forehead where his hairline began. It was impossible to tell how badly he'd been hurt underneath his layers of clothing, but by the way Ezra was holding himself, it didn't look good.

"Talk to me, angel," Crowley murmured as he gazed down into those beautiful blue eyes, one of them already beginning to swell shut. "Where does it hurt the most? Can you move? Can you walk?"

Ezra groaned, then slowly pushed himself up into a kneeling position. He raised his sleeve to wipe the moisture off his face, then grimaced when he saw the bloodstain ruining his favorite coat. "Nothing feels broken," he admitted softly. "My head hurts the worst."

He gestured to the gash on his forehead that was still leaking blood, then winced as his fingers brushed up against it. Without a second thought, Crowley slipped his jacket off and ripped at the bottom of his shirt, tearing off a large strip of fabric. Ezra's eyes went wide and he opened his mouth as if he were about to protest. Crowley cut him off by simply handing him the balled up cloth. He was very careful not to touch Ezra's fingers in the process, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Keep pressure on it. We don't want you passing out from blood loss."

Ezra nodded silently, his face falling, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. The man lifted the rag to his face, as instructed, head bowing in shame.

"I'm so sorry, Anthony."

Those soft words sent another stab of rage through Crowley. How dare those men hurt his angel! How dare they make Ezra feel like all of this was his fault. Ezra was the kindest, gentlest, most beautiful soul Crowley had ever met. If he deserved anything, it was a lifetime of happiness, not this brutality.

What concerned him even more was the fact that Ezra did not seem overly shaken up by what had happened. Crowley could barely keep his hands from shaking. His breaths came in erratic gasps and he felt like he was constantly three seconds away from losing his lunch. Ezra, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine, except for the bruises and the blood. He was already moving to stand, leaning on Anathema for support until he had steadied himself.

Crowley stood up, determination flaring inside his chest. Fuck all of this. If Ezra didn't want him to help, the man was going to have to say so right to his face, because Crowley wasn't going to leave his side for anything unless he was explicitly ordered to.

Briefly, the image of Crowley scooping Ezra up in his arms and carrying him back to the car like a bride entered the man's mind. As alluring as that picture was, he doubted Ezra would be very pleased. The last thing Crowley wanted to do was cause the man more discomfort than he was already experiencing.

Instead, he gently looped his long arm around Ezra's waist for support, careful not to press anywhere too hard. Anathema handed him over, then stepped away to undoubtedly check in on Newton and Adam.

Ezra leaned into Crowley's touch, and despite everything - despite how he wanted to kick and scream and yell at the world how terrible it was that awful things happened to the best of people - the man felt his heart fill with warmth and a protectiveness he's only ever felt with Adam before.

This man was _his_ and Crowley would never let anything like this happen to him ever again. He would rather die than see anyone lay a finger on Ezra Fell.

"Come on, angel," he murmured softly as he tried not to notice the tears currently running down Ezra's bloodstained cheeks. "Let's get you home."


	13. Missing Piece of Heaven

"Dad?" Adam's soft question seemed to pierce through the darkness. "Will Mr. Fell be alright?"

Crowley sighed. They'd made it back to the cottage without incident. Anathema had immediately directed Ezra to the closest bedroom and shut the door. Crowley had done his best to comfort the still crying Adam, tried to distract him with books or snacks, but the boy was inconsolable. Eventually, all Crowley could do was hold him close and rub soothing circles on his back as Adam cried into his father's tattered shirt.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, Anathema emerged, shutting the door softly behind her. She'd approached them quietly, announcing that Ezra was asleep now and that the worst of his injuries seemed to be the gash on his forehead and some bruising along his back. Anathema was no doctor, but she had been raised by one and she was pretty sure he wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

"Yeah, Adam," Crowley murmured. "He'll be fine. He just needs to rest a bit. In a few days, Mr. Fell will be back to normal."

Adam was silent for a while, hugging his blankets tighter to his chest. The tears had stopped falling hours ago, but Crowley could tell his son was still hurting. He was at a loss for what to do.

"Why did those men hurt Mr. Fell?" Adam's voice wavered as he mentioned Ezra's name again.

"Adam," Crowley sighed, feeling like the weight of the world hung on his shoulders. How could he possibly explain to his son what had happened? Adam was six. He didn't understand that the world was cruel. That people hurt each other and felt no guilt for it. "There are people in the world that are mean, just because they want to be. And it's wrong - " his voice broke as tears flooded his cheeks. Damn. He'd been doing so well up until that moment. Crowley had held his heartache in. He'd put on a brave face for Adam's sake, but as he sat on his son's bed and tried to explain why the man Adam loved so much was hurt, despair overtook him.

"But he didn't do anything to them!" Adam was sobbing again and Crowley reached forward to pull his son into an embrace.

"Shh," he soothed, running a hand through the boy's hair. "I know, Adam. I know. Mr. Fell would never do anything to hurt anyone."

A sniffle. "Then why did they hurt him?"

"Because…" Crowley breathed, pressing a gentle kiss into his son's hair. "There are people in the world that believe -" he broke off again, not sure if he could find the words to say what he wanted to say. "You know how in all the fairytales, the prince always rescues the princess, and they fall in love?"

He felt Adam nod his head, slowly pulling away from Crowley as he leaned back, his head propped up on the pillow beneath him. The boy sniffled again, wiping his eyes on his pajama sleeves.

"Sometimes," Crowley continued, "the prince doesn't fall in love with the princess. Sometimes he falls in love with another prince instead. And there are people out there that believe that sort of thing is bad."

"Does Mr. Fell love a prince?" Adam asked quietly.

Crowley felt his heart crumbling. In all honesty, he didn't know. The topic had never come up between them. Ezra had only been working for him for the past few months. How was he to know if the man had someone special back home? For the past three weeks, Ezra had been by Adam's side without so much as a phone call home. Surely that indicated that he wasn't taken, right?

"I don't know, Adam. But those men thought he did. That's why they hurt him."

Adam was quiet for a while after that. Even though he didn't have any other questions, Crowley remained by his side, a hand resting gently on his leg. He wouldn't leave until the boy fell asleep.

"Dad?" The question came a little while later. "Could you give Mr. Fell a hug for me when he wakes up?"

Crowley smiled, squeezing his son's leg gently. "You can give him a hug yourself tomorrow morning. I'm sure he'll be awake by then."

"Please, Dad?" Adam asked again. "I don't want him to wait that long."

The man sighed. He couldn't deny his son anything when he asked with such obvious care. "Yes, alright Adam. I'll be sure to give Mr. Fell a hug as soon as I see him, ok? I promise."

This promise seemed to comfort the boy. Adam gave his father a soft smile and snuggled down into his covers. Within a few minutes, his breathing had slowed. Crowley remained by his son's side a bit longer before finally rising to his feet. As he left the bedroom, he was careful to avoid the loudest floorboards. It wouldn't do to wake Adam now.

After what felt like a lifetime, Crowley finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. He let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, eyes drifting to the door on his right. Surely, one small peek wouldn't hurt. Ezra was probably sleeping anyway. He wouldn't even notice Crowley checking in on him.

Silently, Crowley reached forward and turned the handle. The door inched open, first revealing a large wooden dresser, another door that lead to the bathroom, and then, finally the bed where Ezra Fell lay resting.

It was empty.

Nothing could have prepared Crowley for the sudden panic that overtook his entire being. The sheets were pulled back as if someone had been resting in the bed, but there was no one there now. How long had Ezra been gone? Where did he go? What if he'd hurt himself even more by getting up too soon? Crowley would never forgive himself if he allowed that to happen. He had to find Ezra. He had to find the man _now_ and make sure he was ok.

The tea kettle whistled from the kitchen and Crowley felt a wave of relief hit him right in the chest. Of course. Of course the ridiculous bastard had gotten out of bed when he was supposed to be resting, just to get himself a cup of tea. Of all the nerve.

Crowley strode into the kitchen and spotted Ezra exactly where he expected the man to be, dressed in his nightclothes, standing right in front of the stove.

"You're supposed to be resting."

The man started, and turned to look guiltily at Crowley. Ezra's eyes were downcast, his shoulders hunched over, hands wringing together in front of him.

"Ah, Anthony," the man murmured, still refusing to look up at Crowley. "I thought you were upstairs with Adam."

Crowley arched an eyebrow. "I was. Adam fell asleep, so I came down to check on you. You nearly gave me a heart attack, Ezra."

At this, Ezra finally looked up at him. Crowley did his best to stifle a gasp. While the swelling had gone down significantly and all the blood had been cleared away, Ezra's face still had multiple bruises littered across it. The worst was the one across his eye. It was a nasty purplish black color and surrounded the entire area. Another one shone across his cheekbone, glistening in the dim light of the room. A third hovered around the cut on his forehead, which had been bandaged earlier by Anathema.

Fury welled up inside Crowley at the sight of his battered angel, but he pushed it back down. Now was not the time to be angry. Ezra needed him, whether the man realized it or not.

Instead of shouting or screaming or punching a wall like he wanted to, Crowley stepped forward until he was practically standing on Ezra's toes. The man looked up at him, blue eyes wide, but had nowhere to go. Crowley had trapped him against the kitchen counters.

Slowly, so he didn't hurt the man, Crowley reached out his arms and pulled Ezra into a tender hug. His long arms wrapped themselves around the man's shoulders, one hand reaching up to tangle itself in the shorter man's hair.

"This is from Adam," Crowley whispered into Ezra's ear, feeling the man tremble in his arms. "He asked me to promise to give it to you."

And then Ezra was hugging back, arms wrapped fiercely around Crowley's waist, hands clinging to his shirt. Crowley breathed in deeply, cherishing the smell that he had identified as 'Ezra' a while back. The man melted into his embrace, pressing his face into Crowley's shoulder as he let out a single sob.

"Shhh," Crowley soothed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He was amazed Ezra was allowing him to show comfort. Usually by now the man would have run away. "I'm here. It's all going to be alright. I promise."

This only seemed to make Ezra cry harder. Crowley didn't understand. How was it that whenever he tried to help, he always managed to make things worse?

"Please," Crowley whispered into the golden halo, wanting desperately to press a kiss down on it like he had with Adam, "Angel, tell me what's wrong. Talk to me, please."

"I'm so sorry, Anthony," the man sobbed.

Crowley's heart broke. "Whatever do you have to be sorry for? Angel, you've done nothing wrong."

"No…" the man protested once he could calm down enough to breathe again. "I have."

The red haired man waited patiently for Ezra to speak. The hand around Ezra's shoulder began to move on its own accord, tracing small comforting circles over the tartan patterned fabric.

"What those men said was true," he breathed, voice barely more than a whisper, as if he believed the softer the words were said, the less of a shock the news would be. "I am a - I do have that sort of attraction toward...men, sometimes."

Crowley froze, but not because he was filled with revulsion or disgust. And not because he hadn't seen it coming. The man hadn't given Ezra's...preferences much thought, but it didn't surprise him that Ezra was gay. No, Crowley had frozen for an entirely different reason. The moment that admission slipped out of Ezra Fell's mouth and lodged itself in the cloth on Crowley's shoulder, the man's brain had suddenly come to an impossible conclusion.

_There was a chance Ezra Fell could love him. _

The notion was ridiculous. Crowley knew that as soon as it had entered his mind. Just because Ezra happened to be attracted to men did not mean that he suddenly had feelings for all the men in his life. Did Crowley really think that there were any qualities that he possessed that would result in something as wonderful as this man's affections?

Freezing was the absolute wrong thing to do. As soon as Ezra felt Crowley's body stiffen beneath him, he leapt back as if he'd been burned. Crowley let out an unintentional whine at the loss of contact, trying to grab onto the man and bring him back, but it was too late. Ezra was averting his eyes, casting his gaze to the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his chest like he was trying to comfort himself.

"I'm so so sorry, Anthony," he was saying again, still refusing to look Crowley in the eyes. "I've tried for so long not to feel the way that I do, but I just don't know how to stop. I understand that you want nothing more to do with me, and I promise, I'll be out of your hair soon, just give me a day or two to get my things in order and you'll never have to hear from me again."

_No. Nononono. _How had this happened? Ezra was leaving? Why? Crowley didn't want him to leave. He wanted Ezra to stay, forever. How did he stop this? He had to stop this, before it was too late.

"No," the word slipped out of his mouth before Crowley could stop it. Ezra froze and looked up at him, tears already falling from his bright blue eyes. Crowley found that he, too, was crying. "No," he repeated, unsure what to do with his hands anymore. "I don't want you to go."

Now it was Ezra's turn to freeze, shock overtaking him. "You...don't? But I - I don't understand." He looked so small in that moment, hunched over on himself, broken and bruised and afraid. Crowley felt something stir within him, spurring him onward.

Crowley reached out his hand slowly. Startling Ezra would do him no good now. The man did not pull back when Crowley grabbed onto his hand and held it gently between his. "Ezra, I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here. With Adam, and with me."

"But - " the man spluttered. "But I just - "

"I know," Crowley interrupted, wanting him, _needing _him to understand. "Ezra, I don't give a rat's ass, and I mean that in the most sincere, heartfelt way, what your...preferences are, alright? So you can stop with the apology. I refuse to accept it."

Ezra stared at him, wide eyed. After a few moments, Crowley was pretty sure the man's brain had short-circuited. He showed absolutely no signs of registering what Crowley had said.

The man sighed. Ezra's hand still in his, he gave a light squeeze. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go for a short walk, hm? I think the fresh air will do us both some good."

His companion did not respond, but that didn't stop Crowley from leading Ezra out the front door and into the cool summer's night. The sound of crickets chirping assaulted their ears as both men made their way down the path and away from the house a little. Crowley wasn't planning on going far. Adam was still at home, after all. But the stars shone so much brighter when they were away from the porch light, and Crowley thought Ezra might like to see the stars as they talked.

"Talk to me, angel," the man pleaded, looking over at Ezra who stood beside him. Their hands were still intertwined and Crowley had to force himself to stay calm, for Ezra's sake. Now was not the time to be swooning over a simple touch, even if he'd been wanting it for days.

Ezra took a deep breath. "You really don't care, at all? It doesn't bother you?"

Crowley shook his head. "This does not make me see you as anything less. You're still the same Ezra I've known this whole time. Nothing has changed that."

The man didn't look like he was quite ready to give up yet. "But - but it's illegal, you know. It's wrong!"

Again, Crowley shook his head. He wanted to shout at the man that he was being ridiculous. That nothing about loving another person, no matter who they were, could ever be wrong. Yelling didn't seem like it would be the best course of action with Ezra so vulnerable. Instead, Crowley just said simply: "There's plenty of things that are illegal. Doesn't always mean that they're wrong, it just means people don't understand them. They're scared. Trust me when I say this, angel, knowing this about you does not change anything, alright? If anything, it makes me like you more. It took a lot of bravery to say anything to me tonight. I want you to know it means the world to me that I have that much of your trust."

Ezra blushed and Crowley had a moment where he seriously wondered what would happen if he leaned in and kissed the man. Would the gesture be accepted? Would Ezra push him away? Would the man kiss him back? Crowley found that he desperately wanted to know.

"Ezra," he began, the weight of all his thoughts and feelings causing his breaths to come in fast and shallow. "Can I ask you something?"

The man turned ever so slightly so he was facing Crowley. The top of his halo of hair came up to Crowley's nose and once again, the man wanted to reach out and thread his free hand through it. Ezra's eyes were burning with emotion and glittered like sapphires in the starlight. Not for the first time, Crowley felt this man take his breath away.

"Anything," Ezra murmured, gazing up at Crowley like he'd hung the stars. Pressure began mounting in the man's chest. He could feel the desire he'd been so perfectly ignoring rise to the surface. Soon, it would overtake him.

"Do you think," Crowley began, suddenly finding his lips extremely dry. He licked them nervously, eyes drawn to the soft pink lips that belonged to Ezra. How enticing they looked. He could do it. Kissing him now would be so easy. Just the thought of it set Crowley's blood on fire. "Do you think love is real? Or just some prolonged period of infatuation?"

He hadn't believed in love in a long time. Even when Crowley had been courting Lilith, he'd known it was infatuation, but he'd hoped. He had hoped that with time, that infatuation would turn into love. He'd been wrong. The fire of their love had burnt out quicker than a shooting star. He was terrified the same thing would happen between him and Ezra if he took that last step and closed the distance between them.

"I like to hope it's real," the man responded, shifting his hand so their fingers were interlocked. Crowley's breath hitched in his throat as Ezra gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Could this really be happening? Did Ezra fell want him to…

"But I can't say for certain," the man was saying, pulling Crowley out of his thoughts. "I don't have much of any experience in that department. No one's ever loved me before."

_That's a lie, _Crowley's brain told him. _That can't be true, because I love you._

There it was. So simple, yet so powerful the realization nearly knocked Crowley off his feet. Yes, of course. He loved this man. He loved Ezra Fell with every fiber of his being. He loved his enthusiasm, his kind words and caring heart. He loved the way Ezra cared for Adam and how easily the two got along. He loved this man's ridiculous choice of fashion and the way he had a different flavor of tea for every occasion. He loved Ezra Fell. Knowing that simple fact, everything else in the world finally made sense.

He was going to tell Ezra. Crowley was going to say it out loud. It was the perfect moment. He was going to open his mouth and say 'That's where you're wrong. I love you, Ezra Fell. I've loved you from the moment I met you. I just didn't realize it until now.'

The confession would be romantic and poetic and it would cause Ezra to melt into his arms. They would kiss and Crowley would hold him tightly and never let go again. He would keep Ezra safe and do his best to always make the man smile. He would finally have his missing piece of Heaven.

Somewhere between his mind and his mouth, the message got lost in translation. Crowley knew what he wanted to say. Instead, a question managed to tumble its way out into the night air around them.

"Is being here with Adam and I keeping you from finding love?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. Ezra immediately pulled back like he'd been slapped in the face. Tears filled his eyes and he quickly turned away, unable to look at Crowley any longer. Coldness seeped in around the places where Ezra's fingers had once been and Crowley felt his heart plummeting. The moment was gone. He'd ruined it.

"No," he heard Ezra mumble, clutching at his waist again, as if he were trying to give himself a hug. "No, of course not, Anthony. I love being here with you and Adam, I really do. Besides, I realized a long time ago that love isn't in the cards for me. So you don't have to worry about me missing out on anything."

Not in the cards? Love was standing here right in front of him. Crowley wanted to say something, anything, to get his angel to turn around and look at him again. If only Ezra would _look_, then surely he would see. Crowley could feel his love for the man burning inside of him. It would be impossible not to notice of only Ezra would _turn around._ Crowley tried to speak, he tried with all of his might, but his throat had mysteriously closed up. He could barely breathe let alone say anything to bring Ezra back to him.

Crowley watched as the man wiped at his face, no doubt in an attempt to dry the tears that Crowley had placed there. This was his fault. _He'd _done this. He'd hurt Ezra again. He'd driven him away when all he had ever wanted was to bring the man closer.

A pained sigh echoed in the night around them. Ezra's shoulders slouched once more as he withdrew into himself. Without turning around he mumbled a soft 'Goodnight Anthony' before hurriedly making his way back into the house.

The air suddenly felt much colder. Crowley was alone under the stars staring at the place where his chance at true happiness had once stood. His amber eyes were wide with grief, breaths labored, body beginning to tremble.

In the distance, at the very edge of his hearing, was the all too familiar sound of gunfire.


	14. Think of the Opportunities

**A/N: Hey guys! Just checking in again :) If you're still enjoying the story, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Leave a review if you've got the time, pretty please?**

* * *

Everything hurt when Ezra awoke.

Part of him had expected it to. He'd been through an ordeal yesterday and his body would take time to heal. One night was certainly not enough to fix everything that had been hurt. Anathema had assured him that nothing was broken, which he was grateful for. If Ezra was simply patient with himself, his body would heal on its own time.

Yes, he had expected his body to hurt when he awoke. He hadn't expected the pain to also be in his heart.

Memories of the previous night flashed through his head. Ezra closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow, letting them overtake him. It was easier than the alternative. He found that he would much rather relive the heartache of yesterday than get out of bed and face today's.

Anthony was waiting for him. He could hear the clinking of pots and pans in the kitchen. The man was no doubt working to whip up a delicious breakfast for the three of them. Ezra's stomach rumbled at the thought of it.

Ezra wanted to get up, but he couldn't face Anthony. Not after what had happened last night. He'd revealed his deepest, darkest secret to the man and Anthony had acted like it was of little consequence. He'd said that learning the truth about Ezra hadn't changed his opinion at all. Hearing those words and actually coming to believe them had filled Ezra with such relief. Just when he'd thought he couldn't love the man more, Anthony had gone and pulled a stunt like this.

And Ezra did love, Anthony. That was the problem, wasn't it? He was in love with a man, who was married, and who didn't love him back.

There had been a moment the previous night when Anthony had taken him by the hand and lead him outside under the stars that Ezra had begun to hope. He remembered how the feeling had come alive inside him, how it had ignited his heart as Anthony had gazed down at him with such tenderness. There had been a moment when Ezra had been so sure that Anthony was going to kiss him. They had been so close. All it would have taken was the slightest tilt of one of their heads. Ezra barely rising onto the tips of his toes. He could still smell Anthony's scent like they were still frozen in that position.

_Is being here with Adam and I keeping you from finding love?_

The question had cut him deeply. Ezra knew Anthony hadn't meant him any harm by it. In any other circumstance, it would have been considered a deeply touching thing to ask. Anthony, as his employer, was asking Ezra if he'd been asking too much of the man - if he'd been depriving him of the pleasures in life. It was sweet, really, for him to care. Ezra supposed he should be thankful for that.

He wasn't. The very fact that Anthony had needed to ask that question meant he thought there was no chance of Ezra finding love here with him. Anthony knew he could never reciprocate any feelings Ezra may have for him. He knew that as long as Ezra stayed, he would never find the love that he so desperately wanted.

_Ezra, I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here. With Adam, and with me._

More words from the previous night came flooding back. Anthony had looked so sad in that moment. Ezra hadn't believed the man had been telling the truth at first. Anthony wanted him to stay? Why? Did he consider them friends? Ezra knew the man didn't have very many. Maybe that's what the comment had been about. He didn't really have anyone else in his life besides Ezra and Adam. Of course he wouldn't want Ezra to leave.

And Ezra didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here, with Anthony and Adam. This place felt like home now. He didn't want to say goodbye. But he wasn't so sure he knew how to stay anymore. Being around Anthony hurt too much. It killed him inside to be constantly reminded of what he so desperately wanted, but couldn't have.

Footsteps sounded on the staircase, signaling Adam's arrival. Ezra opened his eyes, a flash of heat entering his face as he remembered Anthony's soft embrace from the previous night. He'd said it had been at Adam's insistance. Ezra was sure the boy would want a proper hug, now that they both were awake. No matter how much the thought of walking out that door hurt him, Ezra knew he could not keep Adam waiting.

"Adam," he heard Anthony chastising as Ezra made his way through the sitting room toward the kitchen. "You are not to go bother him, alright? Mr. Fell will join us when he's ready, and not a moment sooner, understand?"

Ezra stopped in the doorway. Adam was sitting at the kitchen table, both elbows propped and engaged in holding up his head. He was swinging his feet wildly back and forth under the table like he always did when he was impatiently waiting for something. Ezra felt a small spark of joy knowing that the 'something' was him.

As he appeared in Anthony's line of sight, the man looked up and his eyes went wide. Several emotions shone on his face in rapid succession. Delight showed up first, revealing itself in the sudden twinkle in his eye and smile on his face, and was quickly replaced by a flash of anger as he took in Ezra's face. The bruises looked even worse than yesterday, an obvious reminder of the unpleasantness they'd all had to deal with.

Sorrow replaced anger and Ezra wondered what Anthony had to be sad about. Was he thinking about how the previous night had ended? Did he feel bad for hurting Ezra's feelings? If that was the case, he really shouldn't. It wasn't Anthony's fault he couldn't give Ezra what he wanted.

"Good morning, Ezra," the man said softly as the final emotion settled into his amber eyes.

Longing.

The sight of it nearly took Ezra's breath away. He was so enraptured by Anthony's intense gaze that the man barely registered Adam as he hopped down from his seat and rushed over to where Ezra was standing.

"Adam, stop."

Both sets of eyes were now looking up at Anthony. The man turned to his son and gave him a soft smile. "Remember what we talked about? Mr. Fell is still healing. You have to be very gentle with him, arlight?"

Ezra finally tore his gaze away from Anthony's face and stooped down to Adam's height, ignoring the spark of pain in his shins. By the time Adam reached him, it was already fading.

"I'm glad you're ok," the boy admitted, throwing his arms around Ezra's neck. The man held him close, feeling tears rising to the surface again. He fought to keep them down. Would his body ever run out of them?

"Me too, Adam," Ezra breathed, releasing Adam from the hug only to find tears were already running down the boy's cheeks. In an instant, Ezra lost the battle as tears of his own overflowed. It was so unfair - the fact that Adam had been forced to witness such violence against someone he cared for. Ezra wished there was a way for him to rewind the clock, to take back everything the boy had seen.

"Now," Ezra began, forcing some energy into his voice. "Why don't the three of us sit down for some breakfast? It smells absolutely divine in here."

Adam grinned and hurried back over to the table. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for Ezra to sit beside him in the seat directly across from his father. The man could already feel the heat rising in his cheeks and he prayed that the bruise was dark enough to hide it.

"Oh," Anthony said as he sat down at the table with them. "I forgot to grab the newspaper this morning." He turned to Adam. "Would you mind running down the drive and fetching it for me?"

The boy nodded, his former sadness seemingly dissipated. Quickly, he hopped down off the chair and rushed over to the front door, not even stoppping to slip on his shoes. Anthony didn't bother correcting him. As soon as the boy had left the room, the man's eyes had turned to Ezra.

"Angel," he began, the name sending shivers down Ezra's spine. "Can we talk about last night, please? You were rather upset when you went to bed. I know it was my fault and I just - "

Ezra's heart throbbed in his chest. He held up a hand to stop the man from going any further. What he needed was to get his thoughts away from that night, not dive back into it. "It's alright, Anthony. Really. No explanation is necessary."

The man looked undeterred. "Ezra, that's not what I - You don't - I need to talk to you. About something important."

Ezra closed his eyes against the fresh wave of despair. "Please Anthony, not now. I just - I can't. I don't want to talk about it."

He opened his mouth, like he was about to fight back when the front door slammed open and Adam came rushing in.

"Dad!" he called in a tone that wasn't quite alarmed, but also not his usual excited voice. "Someone's here."

Ezra frowned. Were they expecting company? The only people who would come and visit them that he knew of were Anathema and Newton. Were they perhaps coming over to check on him? He would have imagined Anathema would have phoned first, but maybe she'd forgotten. Or maybe she had phoned earlier and he'd slept right through it.

Anthony stood up from the table. By the look on his face, he had not been expecting either Newton or Anathema. Ezra turned, his eyes following Anthony's figure, hips swaying back and forth as he walked. The man had to bite the inside of his cheek to block the wave of thoughts that suddenly came to his mind. Now was really not the time.

"Lilith."

Ezra felt his blood run cold. Impossible. He must have heard Anthony wrong. What in the world would his wife be doing here? They hadn't heard from her in weeks. She'd stormed out of the Crowley household in what had most definitely sounded like an 'I'll never see you again' type speech. Why would she have come all this way now?

"Are you going to let me in? Or should I stand outside all morning?"

The voice sounded just like Lilith. Despair clawed at Ezra's chest, but he refused to let it show. In a few seconds, Adam would walk back into the kitchen, followed by his father and his mother and Ezra was not going to be seen as the polite, well versed tutor and nanny he'd been hired to be.

The man stood as she entered. Lilith Crowley was dressed in a pale yellow dress with matching hat. Her brown curls had been pinned up underneath and the pale white gloves that adorned her hands were spotless. She smiled at him as she entered, then came to a complete stop when she saw his face.

"Good, gracious, Mr. Fell. What happened to your face?"

What a polite way to show concern.

Before Ezra had a chance to even think about how to respond, Anthony had swooped in to rescue him. "We had a run in with a few thugs the other day when we went into town to get groceries," he lied with ease. "The coppers showed up almost immediately, but not before the first few punches were thrown. You should have seen the other guys. Mr. Fell certainly knows his way around a fist fight when the need arises."

Ezra felt his face flush, embarrassed at the idea that even in a pretend world he could have held his own in a fight. The lie was obvious, but Lilith didn't seem to care enough to see through it. Perhaps Anthony had been counting on that, or perhaps he'd just said the first thing that had entered his mind. Either way, it didn't matter. Lilith didn't press the issue in the slightest.

"It's nice to see you, Mrs. Crowley." Ezra wasn't sure if she could tell he was lying. The words sounded polite enough to him, but he had never been a very good liar. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Oh," the woman started, like she'd suddenly been reminded she'd come here for a reason. "That's right. I came to fetch Adam."

Ezra felt his stomach plummet. So this was it. This was the end of their little holiday. Were two weeks really all the time they had? Somehow, Ezra had thought he might get more, but Lilith Crowley was here to retrieve her son. He wasn't sure if even Anthony's actions would be enough to dissuade her.

"Fetch him for what?" Anthony asked, his voice darkening. At that moment, Adam poked his head inside the room, holding up the newspaper for his father to take. Keeping his eyes on the woman standing in their midst, the red haired man squatted down and opened up his arms. Adam went to his father instantly, wrapping his arms around Anthony's neck. As the man stood, his son clung on, rotating his head to gaze at his mother with confusion.

She laughed. "School, of course."

Anthony's eyes narrowed. "It's the middle of summer break. Term doesn't start for at least another month."

A frown appeared at the corners of Lilith's mouth. "I was able to secure him a spot at the Devonshire House Preparatory School. The rest of his break will be used to make sure he isn't behind in any of the topics. I had a list sent to me from one of the school advisors. We've wasted enough time as it is. Thanks to the work Mr. Fell has done, Adam's ready for full time school. It's time for us to get moving."

She turned toward Ezra, smiling sweetly, not a hint of makeup out of place. "Be a dear, would you and go upstairs and fetch Adam's things. Anthony can bring the rest of it all when he comes back to London."

Ezra looked up at Anthony, hoping for some sort of miracle, some sort of sign that he had this situation handled, that Adam wasn't about to be taken away from them. Sighing, the man placed Adam down on the ground, giving his hair a tousle for good measure.

"Go upstairs with Mr. Fell, Adam." The weariness in his voice gave Ezra pause. "Make sure he doesn't forget anything."

To his credit, Adam kept his mouth shut. He solemnly followed Ezra out of the kitchen. When they reached the stairs, Ezra ushered the boy up first, hanging around a few moments to see if he could catch any of the conversation. He shouldn't eavesdrop. Ezra knew it was wrong, but he had to know. He needed something - anything - to grasp onto. Something that would tell him things were going to be alright. That he wasn't about to lose everything in his life that he cared about.

"Lilith," Crowley murmured. "I'm not sure this is the best move for Adam. He's made a lot of progress these past few months, but I'm just not convinced he's ready for school full time. What if he regresses?"

"Nonsense, Anthony." The way she dismissed him so easily made Ezra's blood boil. "He'll do just fine."

A pause. Adam had made it halfway up the stairs already. He hadn't yet noticed that Ezra wasn't following.

"Well then, what about me? Being here, away from it all. Lilith, it's really helped me. I haven't had a nightmare all week. I think it would be best for me if I stayed here, at least a little while longer."

She made a 'hm'-ing sound. Ezra wondered what in the world she could be pondering. If Anthony had been his husband and came to him with such a request, he would have honored it in an instant.

_If Anthony were his husband_. Ezra nearly fainted at the thought.

"You can stay here as long as you like," she finally said with the air of someone who quite honestly didn't care what Anthony did. "But Adam is coming back to London with me. It is what's best for him."

"I won't abandon my son."

With that, Ezra knew it was over. Anthony would never choose his own happiness here with Ezra if Adam was the thing he had to give up. What sort of happiness would it be without the most important piece?

"Are you coming back to London with us?" Adam asked as Ezra entered the bedroom and they began to gather up his clothes and his toys and pack them away in the suitcases stuffed under his bed.

Ezra felt his heart clench in his chest. "Of course, Adam. I'll go wherever you go, as long as you and your parents want me around."

Adam wandered over to where Ezra was standing and wrapped his arms around the man's legs. Smiling, Ezra moved down to give the boy a proper hug.

"I'll always want you around, Mr. Fell." The honesty in Adam's voice brought Ezra to tears.

"And I you, my dear boy."

Ezra tried to stretch out the packing as long as he could, but there were only so many ways one could fold clothes. Eventually, all that was left to do was sort through the bed things and figure out which pillows Adam wanted to bring home with him and which he would leave here until next time.

Oh, how Ezra wished there would be a next time, even if he knew the likelihood of his inclusion was slim to none.

A soft cough in the doorway drew his attention. Ezra looked up to find Anthony leaning against the wooden frame, arms crossed over his chest. He was gazing down at Ezra with unbridled adoration. The man found he was unable to look away.

"Just about done up here?"

Ezra nodded slowly, the tightness in his chest growing ever stronger. "Adam's things are all ready to go. I was just finishing up the last of mine." He paused. "Do you need help packing, Anthony? I could stay and assist you, if you'd like."

Instead of responding right away, Anthony took a step into the room. He glanced down at Adam, smiling. A month ago, Ezra would not have recognized that smile for what it was - a pain filled imitation. Anthony was putting on a brave face for Adam's sake. He really and truly did not want to leave this place.

"Why don't you go on down and take some of your things out to the car, Adam," his father suggested, gesturing to the smaller of the suitcases. "Mr. Fell and I will grab the rest and be right down."

"Ok," said Adam cheerily, blissfully unaware of the changes that were to come. He simply saw this as his family returning home after a nice holiday in the country. The boy couldn't possibly understand that this day was the beginning of the end for their happy little family. Once Adam went off to school, there would be no more need for Ezra in the Crowley household. He would be forced to say goodbye, and even though the man knew his doors would always be open to Anthony and Adam, he doubted they would be able to find the time to stop by as often as he'd like.

No sooner had the boy left, then Anthony was standing right in front of Ezra, his amber eyes filled with unmasked pain. Without thinking, Ezra reached out and laced his fingers together with Anthony's. He heard the man's breath hitch with the contact and something stirred within him.

"It'll be alright," Ezra murmured, trying to keep the sorrow from his voice. "We knew this wouldn't be forever, right? London won't be so bad. We'll still have each other, won't we? You, me and Adam. We'll be just fine, you'll see. Tickety-boo, as it were."

He was lying. Anthony knew he was lying. The man chuckled anyway. Ezra squeezed his hand comfortingly, a smile finding its way onto his face.

Suddenly, the man's demeanor changed. He lifted his free hand and brought it up to cup the side of Ezra's face. What was happening? Ezra could feel something in his chest come to life. His breaths turned shallow and he had a hard time feeling anything else but the warmth of the skin on his cheek. Unable to resist it, Ezra leaned into the touch. His eyes slowly fluttered shut.

Ezra inhaled, recognizing the familiar scent that was Anthony Crowley. His mind immediately filled with images of long walks in a colorful forest. With a pang, Ezra realized he may never get to see this place during autumn. He may never get to see this place ever again.

"I'm so sorry, angel."

The words were a whispered prayer of forgiveness. Ezra could tell by the inflections in his voice. Slowly, he opened his eyes to tell Anthony that he had nothing to apologize for when the sudden sensation of lips brushing against his forehead caused the man to momentarily forget how to speak.

Anthony was kissing him. Sure, it wasn't a passion filled, lips attacking lips sort of kiss, but it was tender and sweet and made Ezra's heart soar.

_I want you to stay here. Do you think love is real, or just some prolonged period of infatuation? I need to talk to you about something important. I'm so sorry, angel._

The words rushed through his mind as hope flared to life. Was it possible? Could Anthony's feelings toward him be more than just friendship? Was that why he'd sounded so tortured when speaking with Lilith earlier? Did he want to stay here _because _of Ezra?

"Anthony, I…" No matter how hard he tried, the words would not come. He felt Anthony pull back and Ezra realized how desperately he wanted the man to stay. The hand still resting on his cheek began to stroke it softly, thumb moving slowly back and forth, holding onto Ezra like he was the most precious thing in the world.

"Do you want me to stay?" Ezra tried again as soon as he found his voice. "I could help you pack up the rest of our things. We could ride back to London in the bentley together, just you and me."

_We could have a moment alone, to say all the things we've been too afraid to say. To maybe do some of the things we've been too afraid to do. There will be no watchful eyes. No chance of being interrupted. Just the two of us, and no one else._

Something glimmered in the depths of Anthony's eyes. It was snuffed out a moment later. Slowly, the man shook his head. "I need you with Adam. I don't want him alone with her. I trust no one else to be by his side but you."

Ezra's legs shook with the impact of what Anthony was saying. The enormity of what the man was asking of him did not escape Ezra.

"Of course," he responded, forcing a smile. "I won't leave him alone. I promise."

Then, before his courage could fail him, Ezra reached up on the tips of his toes and pressed a kiss gently to Anthony's cheek.

_I love you._ He willed the man to understand. _I love you and I know this is hard, but you'll get through this. You have Adam, and you have me. And I will stay by your side for the rest of eternity, if you'll have me._

"I'll see you back in London," he murmured before stepping away and heading back down the stairs.

* * *

Crowley stood motionless in that room for another few moments, the sound of the creaking stairs his only clue to where Ezra was at that moment. Slowly, he touched his fingertips to the side of his face where his angel's lips had brushed his skin.

Ezra had kissed him. Ezra had returned his kiss, in the same soft, gentle way in which it had been given. What did that mean? Was he saying that he returned Crowley's feelings? Was he simply bidding the man a polite goodbye? There were an infinite number of ways to interpret the simple action, and none of them mattered. Lilith had decided, for now, that she was back in their lives. He was going back to London.

Crowley's stomach twisted unpleasantly. He breathed in deeply, trying to steady his nerves before they turned into panic. The gentle beating of a drum was starting up again. It had returned last night and had been steadily getting louder as the hours went by, only stopping when Crowley had found himself within Ezra's presence.

What had gone wrong? Initially, he'd been hesitant to believe this trip would do him any good, but the changes he'd seen within himself after the first week made him a believer. This was where he had to be. This was where Crowley belonged, but Adam...The love Crowley felt for his son was infinitely stronger now. There was no way he could stay behind when Adam was leaving, even if staying had meant he could have Ezra all to himself. He needed Adam, and he liked to think Adam needed him too.

Eventually, Anthony pulled himself together enough to go back downstairs. Lilith was waiting for him in the doorway. Adam and Ezra had already climbed into her car. From this angle, Crowley saw that Eustace, their butler, had been the one to escort her here.

"Ah, excellent," Lilith began as soon as she saw him. "You can finish tidying up here and meet us back at the London house when you're ready. I must get Adam back as soon as possible. We want to be sure to use all the time he's got left to make sure he's prepared."

Anthony sighed. He had to try. He had to give it one more shot - to try and convince her that she was mistaken. That they were better off here. Maybe if he tried one more time, she might understand.

The sounds in his head were getting louder now, but Crowley ignored them. They would go away soon enough if he could just convince Lilith.

"Lilith, please," he began, feeling the sweat starting to pool on his brown. Deep breaths. He had to stay focused or he would lose himself again. "Reconsider. Adam is happy here. I am happy here. Don't make us leave."

The woman scoffed. "You're being ridiculous, Anthony," she pointed out, reaching a hand up to make sure her hair was still in place. "The countryside is no place for a boy to grow up. What kind of education will he get if he remains here? What kind of life will he live? He's better off back in London. Think of the opportunities."

She turned to go and Crowley found his arm reaching out for her, stopping the woman in her tracks. Lilith turned to face him once more.

"Please, Lilith," he was desperate now. The gunshots were closer now, less than a mile away. As he breathed in he could smell the stench of gunpowder. It was sure to suffocate him in a matter of moments if he didn't do something. "I'll die if I go back to London."

In an instant, Crowley knew there would be no convincing her. The woman simply rolled her eyes, tugging her arm from his grasp. "Honestly, Anthony," she chided as she turned her back to him once more. "Don't be so dramatic."

On that note, Lilith Crowley walked away, leaving her husband alone, trembling in the cottage doorway.


	15. The Door Between Us

On Sunday, they returned to London. The house was just as Ezra remembered it, not a thing out of place. Even the spare bedroom where he'd slept had not been touched except to be dusted by one of the housekeepers. It was immaculately clean.

When they arrived, Adam immediately dragged Ezra outside to play in the backyard while they waited for Anthony. He was about an hour or so behind them, driving the rest of their things and was due to arrive by lunchtime. When asked what he wanted to do for lunch, Adam had insisted on having a picnic in the backyard, so that was what they did.

At first, Anthony seemed alright. Ezra was sure to keep a close eye on him, looking for any signs of a panic attack on the horizon. He seemed a bit subdued as they sat outside and ate together, but he was smiling, and for the first time since Mrs. Crowley had showed up again, it actually reached his eyes.

On Monday, Ezra started up Adam's lessons again. He had a list of topics to cover by the end of summer, per Mrs. Crowley's request. Most of them, Adam had already learned. The ones he didn't know were easy enough, if a bit tedious. Ezra made sure to break up the day with fun activities to keep the boy from dying of boredom.

Anthony went back to work, although he only stayed at the office during the morning. As lunchtime rolled around, he came home with the intention of spending it with Ezra and Adam. The three of them went out this time, stopping at a cute bakery down the street where they had the most delicious chicken soup. They stayed sitting at one of the corner tables for nearly two hours. Anthony smiled and it was alright. Things weren't exactly the way Ezra wanted them to be, but they could have been much worse. Perhaps, he could learn to live with this. It wasn't as if he had many other options.

On Tuesday, several women showed up at the house to apply for the position of Adam's nanny. Ezra felt his heart break a little, but he reminded himself that he was still Adam's tutor. He still had a place here with this family, for now. Ezra was going to make the most of it.

Anthony helped with the interviews. In private, he confided in Ezra that none of them held a candle to the way he cared for Adam, but that Lilith had insisted on having a female nanny. The sooner the better, in her mind. What a tragedy it would be if the other families in her circle learned that Adam was being raised by a bookshop owner, of all people.

On Thursday, Mrs. Crowley announced that she'd secured Adam a position at the school's summer prep session. He was to start on Monday, attending the school from 7 in the morning until 5 at night. It was a great opportunity for him, one that she simply could not pass up.

Anthony shut himself in his bedroom. He did not come out all day, not even when Adam tempted him with a trip to get ice cream sundaes. Ezra comforted the boy, promising his father would be alright. He just needed a bit of time to himself.

On Friday, Ezra said goodbye.

"Mr. Fell, do you have to go?" Adam asked, his voice shaking with unshed tears. Ezra was sure that if they'd been alone, the boy would have launched himself into Ezra's arms and cried his heart out. Mrs. Crowley did not approve of tears, however, so the boy stood awkwardly in front of Ezra, not sure what to do.

"Come now, my dear boy," Ezra said, squatting down and holding out his arms to Adam in a welcoming invitation. A smile brightened the boy's face and he launched himself into the man's embrace, his small arms clinging tightly around Ezra's neck. A soft huff escaped Mrs. Crowley's lips, but Ezra didn't give a damn at this point. This goodbye was for Adam, not her. He would do what he saw fit to make sure the boy was ok.

"You know this isn't goodbye forever, don't you? We'll see each other again, sooner than you think." Ezra pulled back, reaching up a hand to ruffle the boy's hair. "You and your father are welcome by my bookshop anytime you'd like. My doors will always be open for the two of you."

Adam grinned. "Can I come by tomorrow?"

Ezra laughed, giving the boy another tight squeeze before finally letting go. "I'll leave the light on for you."

Slowly, the man stood, the aches in his body the barest of whispers now. All of the bruises on Ezra's body had healed except the one over his eye and that one was now a much less startling brownish yellow color. A few more days, and he would be as good as new.

"Is Anthony still upstairs?" He asked the man's wife hesitantly. Ezra was pretty sure that Anthony had not left the room since the previous morning, but he hoped that if something had changed, at least his wife would know.

Mrs. Crowley shrugged. "I don't make it my business to keep an eye on my husband. He is fully capable of caring for himself." She studied Ezra a moment longer, eyebrows raised in concentration. "Feel free to go check, if you want. But I doubt he will let you in. Anthony can get particular when he gets into one of his moods."

Ezra thanked her, even as he ignored the burning sensation in his stomach. How could she dismiss him so easily? Didn't she care that her husband was suffering? Did she think this was some sort of game? That Anthony was acting like a spoiled child? How blind did she have to be to ignore what was right in front of her?

With purpose, Ezra climbed the stairs. He could feel his hands starting to tremble, heart thudding in his chest. _This isn't goodbye_, the man kept reminding himself with each step he took. They would see each other again. Hell, they could see each other every day if Anthony wanted to. Ezra didn't have to worry too much about what hours he kept at the shop. It wasn't like he wanted to sell books anyway. What did it matter if he took off a few hours in the afternoon to spend with a friend? No one would even notice he was gone.

Slowly, the man came to a stop at the door. With a deep breath, he reached up and knocked gently. "Anthony?" Ezra called quietly. "Are you in there?"

No response. Ezra waited a few moments and then tried again.

"Anthony," he tried not to let the sorrow creep into his voice. This was _not _goodbye. It wasn't. "Please open up so I can say a proper farewell. I don't want to leave without seeing you."

He hated this. He hated having to say goodbye to Anthony. Even if it wasn't forever, just the thought of not seeing Anthony every day _hurt_. Ezra hadn't been back to his bookshop in weeks and the thought of returning there now felt wrong. Not when he was returning without Adam and Anthony.

"Please," he tried again, voice shaking. "Anthony, don't do this. Please don't shut me out."

_I love you. I don't want to leave you._

The words hung in the empty space between them. Ezra leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes. He understood how painful this was for Anthony, but what did hiding himself away accomplish? This wasn't the end, even though it felt that way. They could still see each other. They could still be friends. It wasn't what either of them wanted, but it was better than not having each other at all.

Ezra felt a wave of frustration overtake him. Gritting his teeth, he reached down and jostled the door handle. It didn't budge. He tried again. Still nothing.

"Dammit, Anthony!" Ezra shouted, his voice filling with pain. Slowly, his hands fell to his side. "I thought you cared," he breathed into the door. "I thought we were friends. I thought - "

"I do care, angel," the voice sounded from just on the other side of the door. Ezra's heart leapt at the sound of it. He was here. The only thing that separated them now was a single door. He was going to open it. He was going to let Ezra in. The hope that burned within Ezra was overwhelming.

"Then open the door," Ezra pleaded. All he wanted to do in that moment was kick the door down and wrap his arms around the man that had become his closest friend.

"I _can't_," Anthony's voice was muffled through the wooden barrier. The distance between them was killing Ezra. He _knew _he had the capacity to make Anthony happy - truly happy - if only things were different. But things weren't going to work out in Ezra's favor. They never did.

"Why?" Ezra didn't understand. Why was Anthony doing this? Why was he pushing Ezra away? He'd said he cared, so why was he keeping Ezra at an arm's length when they both knew all he wanted was for Ezra to stay?

"I just - " the man paused and Ezra could picture Anthony standing on the other side of the door, his head also leaning up against the surface between them. "I just can't say goodbye to you, angel. I can't."

Ezra wanted to argue, but he could tell that Anthony was not in a state that would be receptive to logical thinking or arguments. He would have to let this go, for now, and hope that Anthony came around eventually.

"Alright, Anthony," Ezra sighed, forcing the tears back down. He was about to head back downstairs where Adam was undoubtedly waiting. There was no way he was going to cry in front of the boy. Ezra would not make things more difficult for Adam than they already were. "Will you swing by the bookshop sometime next week? I'm sure Adam would love to come visit. I could take you both out to lunch, or perhaps we could have dinner together. How does that sound?"

Silence fell between them, and for a moment, Ezra wondered if the man had heard. He opened his mouth to try again when movement sounded from the other side of the door.

"Yeah," Anthony's voice was laiden with sorrow. "Sounds wonderful, angel."

Ezra waited to hear if the man would say anything else. After a few moments of nothing, Ezra stepped away, his hand lingering on the door a second longer, as if he could feel Anthony's presence through the wood. His heart ached as the man stepped away and made his way back down the stairs.

"Ah," Mrs. Crowley greeted him as he reached the main floor. She had just emerged from Anthony's study and was making her way over to him. "Good. I didn't miss you."

She handed him an unmarked envelope, an expectant look on her face. Ezra frowned. What was this? He opened the edge and peered inside.

"What is all of this?" The envelope contained a rather large sum of money. He didn't know exactly how much, but it was definitely more than what he'd earned in his weeks of tutoring.

"Your stipend," she explained. "I included your normal wage as a tutor, plus several weeks of nannying. Anthony also insisted on giving you a bonus for helping out during their holiday."

Ezra's stomach clenched angrily. He couldn't be sure if Anthony had actually insisted on giving him all this money, or if Mrs. Crowley was only saying so to save face. He didn't know which one was worse. The thought of Anthony paying him off made the man want to be sick.

"It was a pleasure having you work here, Mr. Fell," the woman stated politely. "Adam speaks very highly of you. If you ever need references for future employment, feel free to give us a call."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Ezra responded, nodding his head in thanks when all he wanted to do was make her disappear for good. "It was a pleasure."

He placed the envelope deep into his pocket, trying to ignore the burning sensation it created in his stomach. Ezra's hand came to rest on the door and he paused, the sudden urge to turn around and march back up the stairs. It didn't matter that Anthony wouldn't open the door for him. Ezra would sit outside in the hallway all night just to be near him.

No matter how much he wanted to do just that, Ezra knew he couldn't. He couldn't stay here any longer. Staying would only cause trouble for both Anthony and Adam and Ezra didn't want that. It was time for him to leave. Time for him to move on with his life.

Ezra prayed that Anthony and Adam would still be allowed to be a part of it.


	16. The Worst Kind of News

**A/N:****WARNING: This chapter mentions attempted suicide. I focus less on the action itself and more on the effect such an act has on the person's loved ones, but the description of the suicide attempt is there.**

**A summary will be posted in the end notes for those of you who do not feel comfortable reading this chapter in detail.**

* * *

Anthony and Adam did not come to visit the next day. Ezra tried his best not to be bothered by it. They had a lot to do to get Adam ready for school on Monday. Perhaps they had gotten busy at home and hadn't been able to make the trip across town to the bookshop. Surely they would stop by soon enough. Until then, Ezra had plenty of things to do to occupy his time.

The first order of business was to clean up the bookshop. He'd been gone for just over three weeks, giving the dust plenty of time to gather on everything. No matter how much Ezra may wish it sometimes, the shelves weren't going to clean themselves. Rolling up his sleeves, he set to work.

His second day back in Soho wasn't any better. All the shelves had been dusted and wiped down and still no sight of Adam and Anthony. No matter. He still had things to do. There were books to be inventoried, furniture to rearrange, a children's section to restock. All of his children's books had somehow ended up in Adam's possession.

By the third day, Ezra was beginning to grow worried. Adam had been so excited to come see him. The man had a hard time believing he would have let his parents go this long without bringing him to visit unless something had gone wrong.

Things were probably fine. There was absolutely nothing for Ezra to worry about. Adam was simply getting adjusted to his new school. It would take time to establish a routine. The man simply had to be patient. Adam and Anthony cared about him - he knew that. They would be around. He just had to give them time.

By the end of the fourth day, Ezra decided that if he hadn't heard from Anthony by lunchtime tomorrow, he would give the Crowley's a call. Adam's birthday was at the end of the week. He could pass his nosiness off as him trying to give the boy his gift. There was nothing strange about that, was there?

On Wednesday morning, the morning of the fifth day since Ezra had seen Adam and talked to Anthony, he finally flipped his store sign to 'open'. In all honesty, he really should have flipped the sign days ago, but Ezra had held back. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with customers yet. The man felt too wound up. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of Anthony and Adam to feel up to running a store.

Maybe, just maybe, they had dropped by and had seen the closed sign. Ezra had told them both they were always welcome, but would they have felt comfortable knocking on his door upon seeing the shop was closed?

This had to be it. With the changing of the sign, things would turn around for him. Now that the store was open, they would see, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was ready for them.

Ezra's chest was a twisted bundle of nervous energy as he waited, the seconds crawling by. He kept glancing up at the clock, kept waiting for both hands to reach the 12. The man's self imposed deadline could not get here soon enough.

At 10:02 am, the bell at the front of his shop rang, signaling his first customer in almost a month. Ezra had been the back of the shop when the sound had gone off. He took a moment to simply breathe, hoping the steady breaths would convince his heart and his head that the probability of whoever had just walked through that door being one of the two people he was anxious to see was slim to none.

Slowly, he made his way to the front of the room, stopping behind the front desk to look around. After a moment or two of looking and not seeing anyone, Ezra cleared his throat.

"Hello?" He called to the seemingly empty room. "Can I help you?"

Footsteps sounded to his left and a split second later, Adam was standing in the entranceway, his back to the door, face turned towards Ezra.

A wide grin broke out onto the man's face at the sight of the boy. Relief washed through him as he clutched his hands to his chest in an attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart. He could have cried with joy. Quickly, the man's eyes darted up to the doorway, sure that Anthony was only a few steps behind.

The bell jingled again and Ezra's heart soared, only to plummet once more as Mrs. Crowley walked through his door.

"Adam," she scolded, but Ezra sensed a tiredness to her voice that hadn't been there before. "I told you to wait for me."

Ezra's eyes slid back to the boy standing before him. For the first time, he noticed how red and puffy the boy's eyes were. How his lip quivered. How his hands were shaking and how he wouldn't quite look Ezra in the eyes.

Something was terribly wrong.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you would be here, Mr. Fell." She sounded genuinely relieved, like his presence here had just taken the weight of the world off her shoulders. Ezra moved quickly from behind the counter and crouched to the ground, arms open wide, the universal signal for Adam to approach him. The boy let out a cry of despair as he rushed forward, burying his face in the crook of Ezra's neck. The man felt a jolt of panic wash through him as he felt the tears already falling.

"What happened?" He asked, voice hoarse with emotion. It was impossible to see this boy that he loved so much experiencing pure agony and not feel like Ezra's own heart was currently being ripped out of his chest. "Where is Anthony?"

The woman's eyes began to water and Ezra felt his lungs give up breathing. No. No, no nonono. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream - a nightmare. Any second now, he would wake up and realize that none of this had been real. He would wake up and take a stroll down to Hyde Park and he'd run into the real Adam and Anthony there and all would be alright again.

This had to be a dream, because the thought that it was real was unimaginable.

"He's at the hospital," she finally breathed, blinking back tears. Ezra wondered briefly if they were for her husband or the heartbroken son that Ezra was currently holding in his arms. Adam was screaming now. His whole body was shaking and he was wailing into Ezra's shoulder, fists clenched around the man's lapels. "In intensive care. Adam's been delirious since it happened this morning. I didn't know what else to do with him, so I brought him here."

She took a step back toward the door like she was making to leave. Ezra stood up, shifting his arms so one was secure underneath Adam to hold him up. The other found its way to the back of the boy's head in what Ezra hoped was an act of comfort.

"Wait," the man began, eyes going wide. "Are you - are you leaving?" He couldn't believe this. What kind of woman just left her son with someone else during a time of crisis? Her husband was in the hospital - in intensive care for heaven's sake! What was wrong with her?

"Mr. Fell," she began, her brown eyes meeting his blue. "I would really love to stay and chat, but I have an 11am train to catch. The girls and I have been planning a trip for weeks and I daresay I won't miss it."

Anger welled up inside of him. Ezra clutched Adam tighter. "You're _abandoning _your son? In what is probably his greatest hour of need? His father is in the hospital!"

Her eyes flashed and Mrs. Crowley took a step back toward him. "Do you think I need reminding of that?" She hissed at him. "I was there! I saw the ambulance drive off." A pause. Ezra watched as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I am not abandoning my son," she stated, eyes still fixed on Ezra. The man watched as her jaw flexed, nostrils flaring, fists clenched at her side. If he didn't know any better, he would have said she looked like she was going to be sick. But Mrs. Crowley didn't get sick in public. It was indecent. "I am entrusting him to someone that is better suited to care for him than I am."

Ezra's anger died, his eyes widening in shock. Had he heard her right? Was Mrs. Crowley saying that she believed _he_ would be a better parent to her son? Impossible.

"Look," she sighed, the weariness returning. "You can call the hospital. They'll have whatever information you want to know. I don't know if they will allow you to visit, since you're not related to Anthony, but I gave them your name anyway. I gave them my permission to share any updates on his condition with you."

Adam's screaming had quieted to muffled sobs at this point. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to gather breath. Ezra was all to familiar with these sorts of tears. He'd spent the past few nights in a similar state. Gently, he began to sway back and forth, running his hand over the back of Adam's head in a soothing manner.

"Thank you," Ezra murmured. He knew he should be angry at the woman, and a part of him was, but he was also grateful she had brought Adam to him, even if Ezra had no idea how to help the boy other than hold him as he cried.

Slowly, the woman shook her head, hand resting on the shop door. She looked as if she could bolt any minute.

"Please don't."

He saw the muscles in her hand flex and Ezra knew he only had time for one more question before she disappeared. There were so many he wanted to ask, but there was one on his heart that rose higher than all the rest.

"Will Anthony be ok?"

Mrs. Crowley stopped. Her back was to him now as she faced the shop door, eyes peering through the blinds. What was she thinking in that moment? Was she worried about Anthony? Sad to leave Adam behind? Did she feel guilty for not caring about them more before now?

"I don't know."

And then she was gone and Ezra was left alone in the bookshop, cradling a sobbing child, with no news about the man he loved other than Anthony was at the hospital in intensive care. How his heart ached.

He had to call and find out what had happened, but Ezra was not about to push Adam to the side to quell his own fears. He had to do what was best for the boy first.

Without another thought, Ezra moved to the front door and flipped the sign back to closed. The last possible thing he wanted right now was to be interrupted by customers. Then, he moved toward the back of the shop where he'd set up a nice little reading nook and sat down on the couch, shifting Adam so the boy was in his lap, leaning up against his shoulder. From this position, Ezra could at least see his face if Adam chose to remove it from the man's drenched sleeve.

"Adam, my boy," Ezra began gently. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" He knew this was a sensitive subject, but Ezra also knew Adam and he knew the boy would feel better after talking through his emotions. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to." He needed Adam to feel like this was a safe place. "But I'm here to listen, if you have anything you'd like to talk about."

The boy sniffled, then leaned his head back so he could look up at Ezra. The man felt tears threatening to rise as he looked at the heartbroken expression on Adam's face. Fear stirred within him, but Ezra forced himself to remain calm. He was the adult. Adam had been entrusted to him. Ezra couldn't break down now. He had to be strong, for Adam's sake.

"They took Daddy away," he whispered.

Ezra nodded. "The ambulance did?" Mrs. Crowley had mentioned something about an ambulance. He hugged the boy tighter, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Adam to see strangers come into his house and take his father away. What had happened? Had Anthony had a heart attack? Was he sick? Had someone broken into their home to try and hurt him?

"I tried to go with them," the boy admitted, causing a fresh wave of tears to fall on his cheeks. "But they wouldn't let me."

"That's because they needed to focus all their attention on helping your Dad get better," Ezra tried to explain so that the young boy would understand. "I'm sure we can go see him later once he's feeling a bit better. Would you like that?"

The boy nodded, then leaned his head back against Ezra's chest. Gently, Ezra wrapped his arms around Adam and began to rock him slowly back and forth, humming a soft tune. He waited to hear if Adam would say anything else, but the boy did not. After several minutes, Ezra looked down and saw that his young charge had fallen asleep.

Despite the gravity of the situation he found himself in, Ezra smiled. His love for Adam was overwhelming, even in the face of something so tragic. Was this what the love of a parent felt like? Was this what it was like to love someone unconditionally? The beauty of it made Ezra want to hold on tighter and never let the boy go.

After a few more minutes, when he was sure Adam was asleep, Ezra gently shifted his body so Adam was lying comfortably on the couch. He tucked a blanket around the boy's sleeping form and tiptoed into the back office, shutting the door so his voice would not cause a disturbance.

_London General Hospital, how may I help you?_

Ezra felt his heartbeat spike upon hearing the voice. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Um, hello. Yes, I was calling to inquire about the status of a patient of yours. Anthony Crowley?"

The voice on the other line paused. _Are you a relative?_

"No," Ezra admitted. "Not exactly. I'm his son's caretaker. The boy's mother - Anthony's wife - just dropped him off. She mentioned she left my name with you."

_Let me check the records. Can I get your name please, sir?_

"Right. Ezra Fell. Mr. Ezra Fell."

_One moment, Mr. Fell._

That one moment was the longest moment in Ezra's life. He grasped the phone with a shaky hand, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. Hastily, the man wiped them off on his trousers as he fought back the sensation to lose his breakfast all over the office floor.

_Ah. Here we are. _The voice was back. She sounded so calm and collected, like this one conversation wasn't about to change the course of her life forever. That fact may have been true for her. It was most definitely not true for Ezra. _Mr. Crowley was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit this morning at 9 am. He is currently being treated for an opiod overdose and will remain under constant observation for at least the next 72 hours before being reevaluated._

Overdose? Constant observation? Reevaluation? What was this woman talking about? None of it made any sense. Where in the world would Anthony even get opiods? And why was he in the hospital being treated for them?

"Painkillers?" Ezra heard himself asking. "I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I understand."

_Mr. Crowley is an attempted suicide case, Mr. Fell. _The woman on the other line explained patiently. _It's unfortunately common in war veterans, especially those who were on the front line. We are doing everything we can for Mr. Crowley, but it will be a few days before we know for sure if he will fully recover. _

Ezra's heart stopped beating momentarily. He must have heard wrong. Suicide? Anthony would never do that. Ezra knew the man had his demons, but taking his own life? He wouldn't. He _couldn't. _Anthony would never leave Adam behind. Ezra liked to think that maybe he mattered to Anthony too, at least enough to give his friend a reason to live.

_The doctor seems optimistic, though_, she was saying. _Mr. Crowley was lucky his son found him so early. We were able to get a lot of the drug out of his system before it caused much harm._

Oh God, no. Not Adam. Ezra's knees gave out beneath him and the small part of his brain that was not currently in full breakdown mode was thankful he'd thought to stand in front of his desk. The chair caught him roughly in the back of his legs as he lowered himself into it, but at least he hadn't fallen to the ground.

_Adam _had found his father? Sweet, energetic, life-loving Adam? Ezra couldn't breathe. He could faintly hear the hospital worker still speaking to him, but her words weren't making any sense. Nothing was making any sense.

Why? Why was this happening? Hadn't they suffered enough? Why would Anthony _do _this? Didn't he care about them? Didn't Adam and Ezra mean something to him? Why would he try and leave them?

The tears overcame him and Ezra put the phone down, not even bothering to say goodbye. He wouldn't have been able to say anything even if he'd wanted to. A sob wracked Ezra's body and he buried his face in his hands. Images of Anthony lying stone cold on his bed, all life gone from those beautiful amber eyes, flooded his mind. Adam - smart, clever Adam - who was so desperate to see his father, figuring out a way to pick the lock on the door. How else would he have gotten in?

What had he thought in that moment as he'd opened the door and found his father's unconscious body? What did he think now? Adam was too young to understand what had happened. He was too young to understand what his father had tried to do. All he knew was that his father had been taken away from him and all he wanted to do was see the man again.

What were the chances of that? What were the chances that either of them were going to see Anthony alive again? Ezra felt his heart breaking. Guilt flooded his entire being. He'd known Anthony was in a bad way when he'd left on Friday. If Ezra had stayed, could he have stopped this? Could he have pulled Anthony out of those dark thoughts? How long had the man been thinking of doing such a thing? Just this past week? Longer? Had he been considering ending his life the whole time Ezra had known him and the man just hadn't realized? Was this his fault?

Ezra was spiraling and he found that he didn't care. What did it matter? What did it matter if he just wasted away into nothingness? Anthony didn't seem to care what happened to him. How could he if he'd been able to leave Ezra so easily? So what if Ezra lost himself to his despair? Who would even notice? Who would even care?

A knock sounded at the door - sharp and urgent. Ezra snapped up, suddenly remembering the sleeping boy on the other side of the door. _Adam_. How could he have forgotten? Slowly, Ezra managed to push his panic to the side and calm his erratic breathing. Yes, Ezra could still lose Anthony. He could lose the man he loved and that would be devastating. But Anthony was Adam's _father_. That boy had just as much to lose as Ezra did, if not more. Ezra had to pull himself together, for Adam's sake. He would be brave. He had to be.

The knock at the door came again and Ezra stood up. Couldn't they see that the bookshop was closed? Honestly! The nerve of some people.

Quickly, the man moved to the front of the shop with every intention of telling off whatever numbskull had the audacity to bother him in this moment of crisis. He wrenched the door open, whole body shaking with grief and anger and a myriad of other emotions, only to find himself face to face with Anathema.

"What are you doing here?" he found himself asking in a rather brusque and shocked manner.

The woman smiled gently, knowingly, and Ezra felt some of the weight on his shoulders begin to lift. "I had a feeling you might need me today."

Ezra didn't know how she had known to be here or why she had come all this way on a feeling, but in that moment he thanked every deity he knew that she was here now.

"Please, my dear," he urged, stepping to the side to clear the way. "Come inside."

* * *

**Summary: Ezra moves back to the bookshop and tries to readjust to his old life. He doesn't hear from Anthony or Adam for a few days and begins to get worried. Halfway though the week, Adam shows up with his mother. Mrs. Crowley leaves a distraught Adam with Ezra, stating that Anthony is in the hospital and she believes Ezra is better suited to take care of Adam than she is. Ezra comforts the boy and Adam falls asleep. Ezra then calls the hospital to find out what happened. He learns Anthony attempted to commit suicide and is being monitored in the Intensive Care Unit. The doctors are optimistic he will survive, but want to keep him under a constant watch for the next three days. Ezra is devastated and questions why Anthony would do something like this and wonders if it was his fault for not doing anything to help him before he left. Ezra's thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. He opens it to find Anathema there, stating she had a feeling he would need her today. Ezra invites her inside.**


	17. Saying 'I Love You'

"Can I offer you anything, my dear?" Ezra found himself asking as Anathema stepped into the bookshop. "Some water, or tea perhaps?"

Anathema smiled, shaking her head slowly. "I'll take some tea if that would calm you down, Ezra. But I don't need you to make some specifically for me."

While the thought of a hot cup of tea was a tempting one, Ezra found that what he really wanted - what he needed - was to sit down. Adam was still asleep on the couch, but there were a few wooden chairs scattered about the shop, several of them buried under stacks of books he still needed to find a place for. They weren't necessarily the most comfortable, but they would do in a pinch.

He quickly pulled together two chairs, standing to the side to let Anathema choose which one she would prefer to sit in. Once she had made the decision, Ezra took the other one, a weary sigh escaping his lips. The man's body was still trembling, but he'd staved off the tears for the moment.

Anathema leaned in, reaching her arm across his lap to grab onto Ezra's hand. Once it was securely held in her own, she fixed her gaze on him. "Tell me what happened."

The truth came flooding out. Ezra didn't think he could have held it back if he'd even wanted to. He told Anathema everything, from the very beginning. He started with the advertisement for Adam's tutoring position, how he'd gotten the job and then how he'd become a sort of temporary nanny to the boy. He talked about why they'd traveled to the cottage, how Anthony had learned to bond with Adam. He cried with the memory of how happy they'd been.

Anathema listened all the while, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand as Ezra launched into what had happened since they'd returned to London, culminating the revelation that Anthony had - that he had -

"He tried to _kill_ himself, Anathema," Ezra sobbed, the weight of everything crashing back onto him. "I knew he was in pain, I knew he didn't want me to go, he wanted to go back to the cottage, just the three of us again, but I didn't think - I didn't know -"

"Shhh," the woman breathed, squeezing his hand gently. "Ezra, it's not your fault. There was no way for you to have known how bad things were, alright? Even I didn't pick up on it when you and Mr. Crowley visited, and I usually do have a feeling for these things. Please, don't blame yourself."

"How can I not?" Ezra asked. "Anathema, I knew him better than anyone else. He wouldn't even open the door to say goodbye to me on Friday. I should have insisted. I should have sat out there in that hallway until he was forced to let me in. Maybe if I had - "

She fixed him with such a hard stare that Ezra felt his words die in his throat. Anathema was right. He knew she was, but he couldn't stop this guilt rising up inside him. Ezra's heart yearned for Anthony to be here with him. There were so many things he wanted to say. Things that he may never get the chance to now.

"Think of it this way," she tried again. "You're Adam's guardian, for the time being, right?"

Ezra nodded, not entirely sure where she was going with this idea. He turned his attention to her and listened carefully. "When he wakes up, that little boy is going to look to you for guidance. He's going to be sad and scared and he's going to feel lost. What do you think Adam is going to believe if he sees you blaming yourself for what happened? What kind of thoughts do you think that example is going to bring forth from him?"

His heart sank. How could he have been so thoughtless? Ezra hung his head in shame. Adam needed him. He was all that the boy had, for the time being. Blaming himself was not only wasted effort, but it also set a terrible example for Adam. The man vowed, in that moment, to do better.

"Mr. Fell?" A quiet voice asked from the back room. Ezra's stomach churned. He wasn't ready to explain all of this to Adam. He had hoped the boy would sleep for more than an hour or two, but that was clearly not the case.

"In here, Adam," Ezra called, forcing the waver from his voice. Time to put on his brave face. "Anathema's come for a visit."

Adam wandered out into the main part of the bookshop. When his eyes fell on Anathema, he smiled and hurried over to her. She scooped him up in a wide hug, placing the boy firmly on her lap.

"Do you need any help getting him settled in?" Anathema asked after a moment. Adam looked quite comfortable sitting in her lap with his head resting up against her shoulder. "I've got some time on my hands."

Ezra looked around, realizing for the first time that Adam's mother hadn't brought anything with her when she'd dropped him off. "I don't know if there's anything to do," the man admitted softly. "Adam, did your mother have you pack anything before coming over here?"

The boy shook his head. Ezra frowned. They would have to make a stop by the Crowley household and get some of Adam's things. He had no idea how much longer Adam would be staying here. At the very least, it would be a few days. Based on what he knew of her, Mrs. Crowley would stay away a while before reintroducing herself into Adam's life when things had settled back down again. Adam was more likely to stay with Ezra until his father was released from the hospital rather than leave again with his mother.

"That's alright," he sighed, already dreading the trip across town. While that house had been where he'd first met Adam and Anthony, Ezra did not associate it with many happy memories. "We can head over there after lunch and grab some of your clothes and maybe a couple of books too - "

Ezra stopped talking the second he noticed tears falling from Adam's eyes. What had he said? Why was the boy crying now?

"Hey," the man soothed, slipping from his chair to kneel in front of Adam and Anathema. Gently, he reached up a hand and wiped the moisture away. "What's wrong, Adam?"

"I don't want to go back." The tears fell even faster now. Ezra leaned forward and wrapped his arms around both of them, trying to be closer to the boy. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here."

"Shh," Ezra soothed, echoing Anathema's action from earlier. "Adam, dear. We don't have to go anywhere you don't want to go, alright? If you don't want to go back to your house then you and I will just stay right here. Would you like that?"

The boy sniffed and nodded, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. Ezra looked up at Anathema, dumbfounded as to why the thought of returning home had upset Adam so much. She sent him a soft smile, but Ezra could see a hardness in her eyes, like she somehow completely understood how Adam was feeling, and the thought made her angry.

"I'll go," she said quietly as Adam hopped down from her lap and went to stand next to the still kneeling Ezra. "You boys give me a list of what you want and I can go get it for you."

Ezra breathed a sigh of relief. Anathema was a savior. He would have to be sure to thank her when this was all over.

Quickly, Ezra jotted down a list of necessities: pajamas, clothes for a few days, some extra blankets and pillows, Adam's stuffed dog, as well as the list of books the boy had wanted. He gave her the address and told her to ask for Eustace. The butler would recognize Ezra's name and would hopefully know what to do.

Once she had left, Ezra turned to Adam and offered up his most confident smile. "What would you like to do while we wait, Adam?" he asked. "We could read a book. Or go for a walk in the park. Or perhaps go out and grab an ice cream cone?"

He had hoped the suggestion of ice cream would bring a smile to the boy's face. Instead, Adam looked over at him solemnly.

"Is my dad going to be ok, Mr. Fell?"

The question cut deep and it took all of Ezra's willpower to keep from breaking down into tears again. The thought of losing Anthony, of never being able to see his smile again was unbearable. Still, he could not cry. He had to keep it together, for Adam.

"The doctors said they were optimistic," Ezra began. "They're going to keep a close eye on him for the next few days, but they think he'll be just fine after some rest."

This brought a smile to the boy's face. He flung his arms around Ezra, catching the man by surprise. After a moment, Ezra returned the hug full force.

"I am so happy you're here, Adam," Ezra found himself admitting. He could feel Adam smiling as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Ezra's neck. "I wish it was under different circumstances, but I want you to know that no matter how you came to be here, I am awfully happy to see you again, my dear boy."

Small arms held on even tighter as Adam moved to rest his chin on Ezra's shoulder. It would appear the boy had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

"I love you, Mr. Fell," Adam murmured into the silence around them. Ezra's chin trembled and he pulled the boy in tighter, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Love washed over him, stronger than anything he had ever felt before in his life. How had he lived so long without this feeling?

"I love you too, Adam," Ezra whispered fiercely back. "More than you could ever know."

Eventually Adam pulled away and looked up at Ezra expectantly. "Can we read a book now?"

Ezra smiled. "Of course we can, Adam. All of your books are at the other house, I'm afraid. We'll have to read one of mine. Is that alright with you?"

The boy nodded, slipping his hand into Ezra's as the man went to stand. "Which one is your favorite?"

An impossible question to answer, but one he would try to answer because Adam had asked it.

"How do you feel about Robin Hood?"

* * *

Anathema returned just before dinner with all of Adam's things. She stayed to help set up Ezra's bed with the extra pillows and blankets the boy had requested as well as make sure his clothes were all in order. Ezra invited her to stay for dinner, but she regretfully declined.

"I promised Newton I would be home by sundown. He gets rather worried when I go out alone. I got hit on my bike once after dark and he hasn't ever let me live it down."

Adam bid her a fond farewell and Ezra walked her to the door, leaning in to give her one last hug as they parted.

"Thank you so much for today, dear," he murmured so Adam couldn't hear. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

When Anathema did not return his smile, Ezra felt a spark of panic. She wore a look on her face like something was wrong, which was impossible, of course. Nothing more could possibly go wrong today. There had to be some kind of quota they'd already far surpassed.

"I found these," she began, digging into the pocket of her dress, "while I was picking up Adam's things. I didn't exactly know where I was going and I accidentally stepped into the wrong room." She revealed a pair of envelopes and handed them over to Ezra. The one on the top was blank except for a single name written in painfully familiar script.

Adam.

"He left them on the dresser," Anathema explained as Ezra switched the two envelopes to find an identical one with his name on it. "Leaning up against the mirror. They must have been overlooked in all the chaos this morning."

Ezra simply nodded, his eyes wide with shock. The letters, for that's the only thing they could be, suddenly weighed heavy in his hands. His heartbeat quickened at just the thought of what could be written on the pages. Ezra was simultaneously desperate and terrified to find out what was inside.

Slowly, he took a deep breath and tucked them into his vest pocket. There would be time to read his letter later. For now, he wanted to focus on Adam. He had no way of knowing what would be written on those pages for the boy and didn't want to give him any other excuse not to sleep tonight. Maybe, once Ezra had finished reading his, he would pass along Adam's. And maybe he wouldn't. If Anthony pulled through, there was no reason to pass along the pages that would have contained his final words to his son. Anthony would still be around to say countless words in the many years to come.

He waved goodbye and closed the door behind Anathema. Turning back to Adam, Ezra gave the boy a smile. Adam had made himself comfortable at Ezra's writing desk and was currently flipping through his copy of 'The Wind in the Willows', commenting on the silly outfits all the animals were wearing.

"What would you like for dinner, Adam?" Ezra asked as he walked over to the boy. Adam looked up at him and beamed, the tragedies of the day momentarily forgotten.

"Pancakes!" he declared.

So pancakes they had. And after they had finished eating, Ezra tucked Adam into bed and pulled out a small brown package that had been hidden away in his coat pocket.

"A present?" the boy asked, excitedly, "For me?"

Ezra laughed as Adam grabbed for it and began to tear at the paper. "I know your birthday isn't until Saturday, but I thought I would give you one of your presents early."

Faster than the man could blink, Adam had removed the wrapping and pushed it off the bed and onto the floor. In his hands he held a small light brown book with the image of a bear and several other animals in the bottom left hand corner. The bear appeared to be stuck in some sort of rabbit hole, with the others joining together to try and pull him out.

"Winnie-the-Pooh?" Adam asked curiously, flipping the book over in his hands. "What's a Winnie-the-Pooh?"

Ezra shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't we find out together?"

Smiling, the boy patted the empty space on the bed next to him. Ezra climbed up and, crossing his ankles, he settled in beside Adam. Taking the book from the boy's hands, he began to read.

"Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump on the back of his head behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs…"

The two read for nearly an hour and a half, stopping in the middle of chapters to have discussions about whether bees could be fooled by a bear dressed as a raincloud or if any other disguises might work better. Or where all the other Tiggers had gone and if any of them liked honey more than this one.

By the time they had reached the halfway mark, Adam had fallen asleep against Ezra's shoulder. The man smiled to himself, then reread the page they were on five times, hoping the sound of his voice would keep the boy relaxed and sleeping deeply enough that he would not be disturbed when Ezra moved himself off the bed.

As quietly as he could, the bookshop owner crept from the room and closed the door, leaving a tiny crack to let the living room light filter in. They were currently upstairs in Ezra's flat above the bookshop. It was small and minimal when it came to furniture and decorations, but it was home.

Or, at least, it had been.

Sighing wearily, Ezra found a spot in his favorite armchair and pulled out the letter Anathema had given to him. His hands trembled as he held it, wanting to know what Anthony's final words to him had been, but also completely terrified by the thought of what he might find.

"Don't be such a coward," the man muttered to himself, turning the envelope over and carefully breaking the seal. Then, before he could change his mind, Ezra slipped the pages out of their container, unfolded the parchment, and began to read.


	18. My Dearest Ezra

**_A/N: _WARNING: Anthony's letter contains suicidal thoughts/reasoning. I will post a summary of the letter's contents for anyone who wishes to skip that part (just skip over the italicized bit and you should be fine).**

_My Dearest Ezra,_

He hadn't even been able to get through the dedication without crying. The word 'dearest' popped out of the page and Ezra felt like he was being stabbed in the chest with a knife. He felt it bury deep into his very being, lodging itself in the corner of his heart where all his tender emotions were tucked away. Ezra raised a hand and attempted to stifle a sob as tears flowed from his eyes. Gently, he held the paper away from him, afraid he would stain and smear the precious words if he held them too close.

_My Dearest Ezra,_

_I am sure that even in writing this letter, my sentiments will fall flat. There are not enough words in all the languages on earth to describe what you mean to me. I plan to try, all the same, in the hopes that you might come to understand me a little better._

_I'm lost. I have been lost for a very long time. Lost in the memories of the things I have done and the horrors I have seen. There are days that go by where I can't find my way out. I am surrounded by chilling darkness, suffocating me from all sides, squeezing the life out of me inch by inch. I fear I will never escape._

_Hope left me long ago. I resigned myself to this life - a life of separation and loneliness and overwhelming darkness. There is nothing you or anyone else can say to convince me I don't deserve it. I've made terrible choices, caused such pain to so many people. What right do I have to know happiness? Me, of all people?_

_You appeared in my life like a shining beacon of light leading me out of the darkness, leading me home. The first time I caught a glimpse of your kindness, I called you 'angel'. There could be no name more fitting. Every room you enter is filled with light and love just because of you. Your presence is captivating. I am in Heaven when I am near you._

_You lied to me once, under a starry sky outside of the place that became our home for a short told me no one has ever loved you. I'm convinced you never intended to lie. You probably had no idea the statement was false. How could you, when I was never brave enough to tell you how I felt?_

_I love you, Ezra Fell. I love you more than anyone I have ever known, apart from Adam. I love you because you were kind to me when no one else was. You wrapped your arms around me and lead a drunken bastard to bed. You asked me how I was doing when no one else cared. You banished the noises in my head and brought me out of my darkness._

_You taught me how to love my son._

_I love you for your kindness, your compassion. I love you for your enthusiasm as you teach Adam about the world. I love you for your knowledge and your love of sharing it. You are beautiful - the most beautiful soul I have ever met, both inside and out. Ezra, my love, you make me want to be a better man, for you and for Adam. I only wish I could have lived up to the man you saw in me._

_Deep within my soul, I know we could have been happy together, if things had been different. If we could have stayed in the countryside. If the world were a bit more understanding. If you could have loved me back._

_I'm back in London now and the darkness is creeping back in. With you, I had reprieve. With you, I had hope that my life could be something other than the mess that it had become. Now, you're gone and I can feel myself slowly slipping away. I'm falling back into my nightmares and I know that I can't survive it a second time. Not that I now know what my life could be. I can't bear that impossible loss. It will shatter my soul beyond recognition._

_A crossroads stands before me. I must make an impossible choice. My heart wishes to run away with you, away from here, across the seas or up into the stars. I want nothing more than to build a life with you and Adam, but I cannot have you both._

_The world will not let me keep Adam if I choose to love you. They will take him away from us faster than the blink of an eye. You and I would have each other, for a while at least, but Adam would lose us would come to hate me, eventually, for being the reason Adam was taken from your life. I cannot allow that to happen. _

_I also cannot bring myself to choose Adam. I cannot remain here in this house with him and watch my life slowly crumble around me. My marriage is a sham and has been for as long as I can remember. I have no friends but you and in two years Adam will be sent off to boarding school and I will lose him too. If I choose my son, I will lose you both, all the same._

_There is a third option. Now that I have had time to think, I realize it is the only way out for me. It seems fitting that I shall leave this world by my own hand, the very same hand that stole so many lives by the Seine. No matter what I choose, I lose you both. At least this way, I won't lose myself any further than I already have. _

_I know I have no right to ask this, but I beg of you, please look after Adam. If not for my sake, for his. He adores you, and for good reason. There is no one else I would rather him look up to than you. He will need someone in the coming years. I know how you must hate me for what I've done, but I ask of you, please don't punish him for my sins. _

_You are my angel, Ezra. I don't believe in an Almighty power, but the universe gave you to me and I will forever be grateful for that precious gift. We may not have been fated to find happiness with each other in this lifetime, but I have hope we may find each other in the next._

_I will love you always._

_Anthony_

Ezra clutched the letter to his chest long after he had finished reading it. He had read it and re-read it and cried before reading it again. Logically, he knew there had to be a limit to the number of tears a person could shed, but Ezra had not reached that amount yet.

He was dying. There was no other explanation for this pain in his chest. The knife that had buried itself in him earlier was twisting, burning slowly outward through his lungs and his stomach, reaching all the way down to his fingers and his toes. Ezra had never known such pain, not even when he'd fallen from the tree and broken his leg. Not when his brother told him he was going to hell. Not even when he'd learned what Anthony had done, because now he _knew. _Now, he understood.

Anthony loved him. Not the love a friend had for a friend. Anthony was _in love_ with him. It was the kind of love Ezra had always wanted, but had known he could never have. And it had been _right there_ in front of him. He could have had it, if only he'd been a bit braver. If only he'd fought a little harder.

Sobs wracked his body and Ezra couldn't stop. He was drowning in his own tears - suffocating under the weight of his loss. A small piece of Ezra's mind knew that he should be quiet, that Adam was sleeping in the other room and he didn't want to wake the boy up, but he couldn't stop himself. He was losing himself in his grief, for the man that he loved and for the life they could have had.

If only things were different.

"Shhh."

The whispered comfort cut through Ezra's despair, grabbing onto him and pulling him slowly out. Small arms wrapped around his neck and held onto him tightly as the man shook beneath the weight of his feelings. Without thinking about it, Ezra moved the letter safely to the side table and wrapped his arms around the small boy that was currently doing his best in a hopeless situation. Adam was here, by his side, giving him a shoulder to cry on. Being strong when Ezra was weak. Just when he'd felt he couldn't love the boy any more than he already did.

"I'm sorry, Adam," Ezra moaned when he finally found the strength to catch his breath. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I wanted to be strong for you."

Adam didn't say anything, instead choosing to shimmy up on the chair with Ezra, squeezing into the space between Ezra's thigh and the arm of the chair. The man lifted his arm and Adam snuggled up against him, placing his arm around Ezra's waist in a makeshift hug.

"I'm here," Adam said quietly, echoing Ezra's words from earlier, "if you want to talk about anything."

He shouldn't. Ezra had been trying to be strong for Adam, to protect him from the sadness that permeated the air around them. He should usher the boy back to bed and pretend like nothing happened.

Ezra paused on that thought. What message would that send to the boy? The man wanted Adam to feel comfortable coming to him about anything. Didn't that mean he had to be comfortable sharing his own feelings with Adam? He had to set a good example for the behavior he wanted to see.

"I miss your dad," Ezra admitted, reaching up with his free hand to wipe the tears away. His breaths had steadied and though his nose was congested beyond belief, the man was calm now. "All I want to do is go visit him. _Talk _to him. I have so many things that I want to tell him."

"Like what?" The curiosity in Adam's voice was full of innocence and Ezra found himself smiling, despite how his fractured heart ached.

"I would tell him how much I care about him," Ezra began. "How wonderful I think he is. I would ask him to come visit the bookshop and see if he wanted to have dinner together sometime. I would tell him that he is my very best friend."

Adam smiled. It was a soft smile at first that slowly turned into a wide, excited grin as realization dawned in his eyes.

"Mr. Fell!?" Adam was suddenly wiggling in his seat, unable to contain his excitement. "Is Dad your prince?"

What? His...prince? What in the world was Adam talking about? The way he had asked the question seemed extremely specific, like he was talking about some kind of inside joke Ezra hadn't been privy to.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking, my dear. What do you mean by your dad being my prince?"

The boy's eyebrows wiggled up and down. "You know!" he insisted. "Your _prince._" He emphasized the word as if the inflection in his voice would possibly change Ezra's understanding of the question.

"Dad said that sometimes, the prince in the fairytales doesn't fall in love with the princess, he falls in love with another prince." He paused to let the words sink in. "Is Dad your prince?"

Ezra was in shock. Anthony had talked to Adam about Ezra's homosexulity and Adam had understood? Adam didn't think it was weird or bad or different at all. Anthony had explained it in a way that was so simple, the boy had just accepted it. And he hadn't just accepted it. Adam had internalized it. Suddenly, in his mind, men could love other men and it was completely normal. Not just normal. Adam was _excited _by the thought that Ezra could have fallen in love with his father.

"Are you…" he was having a hard time forming the words in his mind. "Are you asking me if I love your father, Adam?"

The boy nodded his head vigorously, the look on his face saying that he already knew the answer.

Ezra smiled, tears of joy forming in his eyes. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, Adam. Your father is my prince. I love him very much."

Adam clapped his hands together in celebration. Immediately, he leapt down from the chair and began tugging on Ezra's wrist.

"Come on!" he urged, pulling with all his might. Ezra simply chuckled, part of his mind still registering the fact that Adam was happy Ezra loved his father. "We've got to go tell him."

The man laughed. "Slow down there, my dear. Your father is still resting. Why don't we wait until he wakes up, and then we can tell him?"

Adam stopped pulling for a moment, a pensive look passing over his face. "Alright," he finally agreed, climbing back up into the seat with Ezra.

"Adam?" Ezra asked hesitantly, "Do you think I could be your father's prince too?"

He wasn't sure why he had asked. Ezra had a handwritten letter from Anthony himself declaring that very fact, but part of him, a large part, wanted to hear what Adam had to say on the subject.

"Of course you're his prince," the boy grinned. He made it sound like the easiest and most obvious answer in the world.

"How do you know?"

The boy paused for a moment, pondering the question. "Because you're nice to him. And you make him smile. And you're his best friend."

What other reasons could Ezra possibly ask for? He smiled softly, pulling the boy closer against his chest. Adam snuggled into him and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

As tempting as it was to stay here all night, Ezra knew he and Adam would sleep much better if they got up and went back to bed. Eventually, he began to lift himself out of the chair, cradling Adam in his arms as he brought the boy back to the bedroom. Gently, he set the boy down in the bed, pulling the covers back up around his shoulders.

"Mr. Fell?" Adam's sleepy voice asked as Ezra made his way out of the room toward the couch that was calling his name.

He stopped. "Yes, Adam?"

"Will you stay with me?"

The question tugged at Ezra's heartstrings in all the right ways. Smiling, he removed his jacket and vest, placing them over the desk chair in the corner. Without another word, he climbed into the bed on the side Adam had left empty and reached over to turn off the lights.

"Goodnight, Mr. Fell."

Ezra smiled, shutting his eyes and letting exhaustion overtake him.

"Goodnight, my dear boy."

* * *

**Letter Summary: Anthony explains to Ezra that he has felt lost for a very long time as a result of what happened to him during the war. He tells Ezra he was a shining light within the darkness and that was the reason Anthony continued to call him 'angel'. He professes his love for Ezra and laments that there is no path he can take where he, Ezra, and Adam can be together. No matter what he chooses, he will lose them both. He asks Ezra to watch over Adam in the coming years and expresses hope that they might find happiness together in another lifetime.**


	19. The White Walls of Heaven

Crowley awoke to find himself in Heaven.

That was the only possible explanation for this place. The entire room was white - the ceiling, the walls, the floor. Even the window next to him was awash in a heavenly white glow.

He blinked. It was awfully quiet for Heaven, wasn't it? Where was the heavenly choir? Where were all the angels? Why was he the only one here?

Why was it so damn cold?

Crowley blinked again. Was the room getting...less white as time went on? He was seeing more of a mixture of greys and browns now. And were those trees outside his window?

The man looked down to see a faded blue blanket wrapped around his legs. He shifted and the sheets crinkled beneath him. Crowley was in a bed.

In a hospital.

Fuck. He closed his eyes as memories washed over him. Dinner at the cottage, flying kites with Adam. Quiet walks in the forest with Ezra. Returning to London and shutting himself away. Writing those letters and then going to sleep for the last time.

He had failed.

It should have been obvious from the moment he'd woken up. Heaven was not a place he would have ended up in any circumstance, no matter what faith based system got things right. Crowley knew what he was. He knew what he deserved. An eternity of peace and joy? That was out of the question.

He felt fine, other than a minor headache twinging unpleasantly behind his eyes. What time was it? Rather, what day was it? How long had he been out?

Just then, the door at the end of the room opened and a nurse walked in. Crowley turned his attention to her, noticing the rest of the beds laid out in two rows along each side of the room. How had he not seen them before?

"Mr. Crowley," the nurse addressed him as she approached. "It's good to see that you're awake. How are you feeling?"

He opened his mouth to tell her and suddenly felt extremely parched. Crowley's mouth was so dry, he was finding it difficult to say anything at all. Noticing his discomfort, the woman marched over to his bedside, reaching out to hand him a glass of water she'd already had poured. He downed the whole glass in a single go.

"I'm alright," he groaned, moving to sit up a bit more. The nurse leaned down and helped him adjust his pillow so that he was more comfortable. "What time is it?"

The woman glanced up at the clock on the wall. "About a quarter past ten."

Crowley blinked. How could she read it from this far away? The room was so bright, the man could barely see the numbers past the glare. "And, uh...what day is it?"

"Friday, August 13th," she announced, waiting to see if he had any further questions: Why was he here? Was he going to be alright? Did they have any food to eat?

Crowley asked none of these questions as he leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't missed Adam's birthday.

Adam's birthday.

_Adam_.

The breath in Crowley's lungs rushed out and he found himself gasping in panic. Adam! What had he been thinking? How could he have possibly chosen to leave his son, especially so close to his birthday?

"Where's Adam?" he rasped before taking another drink of water. "Where's my son?"

"We sent him home," the woman answered, folding her hands politely in front of her. "With that polite gentleman that was with him. They wanted to come in and visit, but we thought it best to wait until you were awake considering…" she trailed off, averting her gaze for the first time.

"Considering what?" Considering he'd tried to kill himself? Considering he wasn't fit to be a father? Considering they had enough work to do without babysitting a boy sitting beside his sleeping father?

"Considering your son was the one that found you Wednesday morning," she answered finally, like the news had been a dark secret she'd been holding onto all her life. "We thought it best he didn't see you in a similar state."

Crowley blanched. _Adam _had been the one to find him? No, that couldn't have been right. Not Adam. Not his sweet, innocent boy.

The man's stomach lurched. He was going to be sick.

"Easy does it, Mr. Crowley," The nurse soothed, placing her hand on his back, her touch a tickle against his skin. "The last thing we want is for you to overwork yourself."

Overwork himself? What the hell was she on about? Two days ago, Crowley had tried to do himself in. His _son,_ his beautiful, brilliant son had been the one to find him. This wasn't supposed to happen. Crowley was supposed to have just slipped away. One of the servants should have found him in the morning. Sure, there was a possibility they might have been sad, might have felt bad for him, but they would have been alright. They would have taken care of the issue discretely and everyone would have moved on with their lives.

Adam wasn't supposed to have been involved. He should have been kept far away from all of it. Crowley had locked the door for heaven's sake! How had the boy gotten inside the bedroom? What had he thought when he'd found Crowley there, unresponsive?

The guilt was overwhelming. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to traumatize the boy. Crowley had known that his actions would hurt Adam, but he hoped that the blow could have been softened a bit.

"You said Adam came here with a gentleman?" The nurse's previous words broke through his train of thought. "Where is my wife?"

"Mrs. Crowley said she would be out of town for the next few days," the nurse responded. "She left us the gentleman's contact information - Mr. Fell, I believe his name is. Instructed us to update him with your condition. He's caring for your son while Mrs. Crowley is away."

Crowley closed his eyes again, releasing a long breath. Of course. It had been foolish of him to believe that Lilith would stick around to care for Adam when he needed her the most. He understood why she'd never come to visit him, but Adam? How could she just leave him?

Thank all the gods that Ezra was there. Tears began to fall from the man's eyes as he thought about the bookshop owner. What was Ezra thinking? He had to know what Crowley had done. Did Ezra hate him? Was he scared for him? Did he hope that Crowley would wake up soon? Would he consent to giving Adam back? It would seem neither of the boy's parents were fit to care for him. Ezra would make a much better parent than Crowley ever could.

This had been a colossal mistake. Quite possibly the biggest mistake of Crowley's life. He didn't want to _die_. He didn't want to leave his son all alone in the world. Now that morning had broken, his mind felt so much clearer. Nothing else mattered in the world but seeing Adam again. He had to make this right.

"When can I get out of here?" the man asked, a new life to his voice. "I need to see my son."

The woman standing beside him smiled. "We have a few tests to run now that you're awake. If all goes well, we should be able to release you in a few days."

Not good enough. Adam's birthday was tomorrow. Crowley would be damned if he was going to miss his son's birthday. Not after everything he'd put the boy through.

"My son's birthday is tomorrow," he explained, purposefully. "Is there any way we could speed up these tests and have me out by lunchtime?"

Another smile. She nodded her head politely. "I'll see what I can do."

The click of her heels sounded again against the tile floor, signaling her exit. Crowley watched her go, calling out to her only after a thought flickered across his mind.

"Wait!"

She stopped, then turned back around, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"Please don't call Mr. Fell," he requested. "If you can work a miracle and get me out of here tomorrow, I want it to be a surprise." He pressed on, seeing that she was about to protest. "I understand how worried about me they must be. You can call and tell them I'm doing well, if you'd like. That I'm stable and you expect me to wake up in the next few days. Just, please, don't tell them I'm awake yet. Don't tell them I'm coming home. I want to see the look on Adam's face tomorrow when I open up that door and he sees me for the first time."

His only response was a gentle smile and a nod and then she was gone. Crowley leaned back against the pillow and sighed. The request he'd made hadn't been a complete lie. It hadn't even been half a lie. Crowley did want to be released by tomorrow. He _did _want to see the look on Adam's face when the boy saw Crowley alive and well again.

The thing he had omitted was his aversion to seeing Ezra. Crowley couldn't imagine how furious the man must be with him. He wouldn't be surprised if Ezra never wanted to see him again.

If the roles had been reversed, how would Crowley had felt? He imagined he would be heartbroken. A world without Ezra Fell was a world not worth much of anything. If Ezra had been the one to try and end his life, Crowley would have been beside himself. He would have been angry, yes, but at the end of the day, all he would have wanted was to pull Ezra into an embrace and confess to him all the things he had never got a chance to say.

But Crowley loved Ezra. He would always love Ezra. There wasn't a thing that man could do that would stop Crowley from loving him. Even if he did something as _stupid_ as trying to end his life, Crowley would have loved him through it.

Crowley knew how he felt. He was sure of his affections for the blonde haired angel. Ezra's, however, were a different story altogether. The man was much less confident in how Ezra felt. There was a possibility that Ezra might love him back. Unfortunately, there was an equal possibility that he would be repulsed by what Crowley had done. What if he never wanted to speak to Crowley again?

He was a coward, Crowley decided. The thought of arriving at the bookshop to see Adam and having Ezra also there made the man want to throw up, or pass out, or some combination of the two. He could not stand the idea that Ezra might turn him away. That he might rebuff Crowley - tell him that he didn't deserve love or affection after what he'd done...Crowley may have known these things to be true, but hearing Ezra say it out loud would be the end of him. He just couldn't risk it.

What else could he do? Crowley could leave the hospital and go to Ezra. He could gather Adam in his arms and tell the boy how truly sorry he was. He could turn to Ezra and his angel would either run to him or slam the door in his face. If Ezra accepted Crowley - if he reciprocated the man's feelings, then what? There was no way for them to be together. Being made aware of the love Ezra might feel for him and then never getting a chance to act on it - that was just as terrible as being turned away. Either outcome was more than Crowley could bear.

There was a second option. Crowley could have Adam brought to him. In this situation, he could still see his son, but wouldn't have to face Ezra. Wouldn't have to be denied the love he so desperately wanted, one way or the other. If he avoided an interaction with Ezra, then the decision was in his hands. He didn't have to fear what the man may or may not say because Crowley would be the one in control. He would still lose Ezra. He would always lose Ezra, but at least this way he could still imagine a future where they might be happy. At least, this way, his heart would remain somewhat whole.

Crowley sighed. The choice was an obvious one. He knew what he had to do.

The phone rang just as Ezra and Adam were making their way to the door. Ezra reached out a hand to stop the boy before he hurried off to tell whomever was calling that the bookshop was closed until further notice. He and Adam had a date with the ducks at St. James Park.

"A.Z. Fell & Co. I'm sorry to say that we're closed."

_Mr. Fell? This is London General Hospital. I'm calling about an update for Anthony Crowley._

Ezra felt his heart stop. His eyes went wide, hand flying up to his lapels, grasping them anxiously. Noticing his instant change in demeanor, Adam ran over to the man, coming to a halt right underneath Ezra's arm. The blonde man gave Adam a hesitant smile, hoping he wasn't coming across as too afraid. Damn. His emotions were difficult to keep in check when they dealt with anything related to Anthony.

"Y-yes," Ezra stuttered, realizing that in his momentary panic, he had forgotten to respond. Quickly, before the nurse had a chance to pass along any news, he sent up a few prayers that nothing but joy would be felt today. "How is he?"

_Doing well. _There was a smile in the woman's voice. _He's stable now and we've moved him out of intensive care. We expect him to make a full recovery within the next few days._

The man breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god." Ezra looked down at Adam, giving the boy a warm smile. "Can we come and see him? His son, Adam, really misses him and would love to visit."

She hesitated a long time - long enough that Ezra wondered if she had heard his question. He was about to ask again when she spoke.

_He's still resting, _she mentioned, her voice a bit quieter than before. _The doctors think it would be best to hold off on visitors until he wakes up. I'll be sure to call you as soon as he does._

Ezra tried to bite back his disappointment. Adam's birthday was tomorrow. Would it kill them to let the boy see his father? What could possibly go wrong, especially if the man was just sleeping? "Of course, I understand. Thank you. We look forward to the call."

He hung up, squatting down to look into Adam's eyes. The boy smiled at him and Ezra reached forward to give him a quick hug.

"That was the hospital," he explained, pulling back. "They wanted to let us know that your dad is doing really well. They think he'll wake up sometime in the next few days."

Adam smiled. "Can we go see him?" The boy bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he asked the inevitable question.

Ezra shook his head sadly, putting on a brave face. "He's still sleeping. The nurse said she would call back as soon as he woke up."

The boy nodded, then moved to the chair to sit down. Ezra frowned, stepping to the side as Adam fixed his gaze on the desk where the bookshop's phone sat.

"What are you doing?" Ezra finally asked after several moments of Adam sitting still, apart from his feet kicking back and forth wildly.

"I'm waiting for the phone call," he stated. "To go and see Dad."

Ezra chukled, the sweetness of the moment causing his heart to swell. "You can't just sit here all day and wait for the phone to ring, Adam."

The boy frowned. "Why not?"

Why not, indeed? Ezra shook his head. "Because, what if it doesn't ring? Then you'll have wasted your whole day not doing a single productive thing."

As far as arguments went, it seemed like a good one. Adam still wasn't convinced. "What if it does ring and I'm not here to answer it?"

He was a clever boy, that had never been in question. Ezra sighed, trying to think of the best way to go about this. Perhaps he should have read up on parenting a bit more before getting involved as a tutor. How did one explain to a child the concept of wishing one's life away? How did he convince Adam that, no matter how difficult it may seem, it was better for him to continue to live his life than let it pass idly by?

"Then they will call back," was the response Ezra finally settled on. "Besides, if you wait here by the phone all day, who will help me feed the ducks? I'll need help with that and I _certainly _can't go get an ice cream come on my own."

At the mention of ice cream, Adam's ears perked up. Slowly, he slid from the chair. Feet firmly planted on the ground once more, the boy hurried over to the bookshop door, reaching out to pull Ezra along.

"Come on, Mr. Fell!" the boy cheered excitedly. "Those ducks aren't going to feed themselves."

Ezra laughed, loudly and fully. The sensation filled him up with love and joy and so much hope. "No, my dear boy, they certainly aren't."


	20. Birthday Surprises

Ezra stayed up all night decorating the bookshop. Technically, 'all night' implied the individual got no amount of sleep during the observed time frame. Ezra had slept, from exactly 2am to 4:30am. The rest of the time he was hanging streamers and paper lanterns, without the candles of course. Dozens of lit lanterns in a bookshop was a recipe for disaster.

After the decorations were complete, Ezra set to work on making breakfast. Adam, deciding to be no help at all, had requested a surprise breakfast. No further instructions were given. No details on whether he wanted sweet or savory food. Fresh fruit or baked pastries. Adam had said nothing other than he wanted whatever it was to be a surprise.

What was the man supposed to do with that?

Creativity was not one of Ezra's strong suits. He was excellent at executing the steps of a very detailed plan, but coming up with one himself? That was an entirely different story. Still, Adam was counting on him and Ezra would not disappoint. He was determined to give Adam the best birthday ever. The boy deserved it, after everything he had been through this past week.

He'd decided on a pirate theme. Adam's favorite story to read was still Peter Pan, even after all the other books Ezra had introduced him to. Pirates were probably a safe bet, Ezra had thought. He'd hung white and black and red streamers from the ceiling and across the tops of the bookshelves. Small pirate flags lay draped over the sides of the streamers and Ezra had even gotten his hands on some small cardboard cutouts of pirate ships he'd hung in between with some string.

For breakfast, he'd decided on a pineapple upside down cake. Pineapple was a tropical fruit and pirates were tropical...right? He sighed, knowing it didn't make much sense, but realizing there wasn't much he could do about it now that the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon.

Adam woke up just as Ezra was putting the finishing touches on the cake. He could hear the boy's footsteps as he came out of the bedroom and raced down the stairs. Ezra moved to be within line of sight of the bottom step and threw his arms open wide when Adam made his grand entrance.

"Happy birthday, Adam!" Ezra cheered as the boy launched himself into the man's arms. He hoisted Adam up and twirled him around as the boy laughed, his eyes alight with wonder.

"Look at all these pirate ships!" he exclaimed, eyes dancing around the room. "How did you get all of them up there?"

Ezra grinned. "With a ladder, of course, dear boy." He waggled his eyebrows as he set Adam back down again. "I may have also had a bit of help."

The boy's eyes went wide as he sucked in a breath. "From who?"

As Adam looked around, Ezra reached his hand surreptitiously into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny bell. He curled it in his fist and gently began to ring it, the sound causing a wide grin to appear on the boy's face.

"Tinker Bell!"

He raced around the room, trying to find out where the noise was coming from. Ezra bit his cheek, trying hard not to laugh as he followed Adam on his quest. It was hard to tell if the boy actually believed there was a fairy trapped in the room or if he was just pretending, but Ezra indulge him just the same.

"Not so fast, Adam," the man suggested, mostly because he didn't want Adam to accidentally run into a bookshelf in his excitement. "Your running might scare her off."

Adam slowed down after that, his eyes falling to the cake Ezra had placed on the shop's counter. He gasped.

"Is that for me?"

Ezra nodded, scooping the boy up so he could see better. "This is your birthday breakfast pineapple upside down cake. Are you hungry, dear boy?"

"Yes!" Adam exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Ezra carried him over to a nearby chair and dropped his feet on the wooden surface. He made sure the boy was steady before stepping away to grab the cake, a serving knife, and two plates.

They sat and ate cake for a while, talking about all the things Adam wanted to do that day. First, they would walk down to the park and feed the ducks. This had become one of Adam's favorite pastimes over the past three days and he didn't want to disappoint his new feathery friends by not showing up with their treats. Then, they would head down to the market to pick up some produce for lunch and maybe a new toy or two. He also wanted to go for a bike ride around town, learn to jump rope, and draw a picture for Anthony.

"And after I'm done," Adam was saying, already on his third slice of cake, "maybe they'll let us go and give it to Dad. We don't even have to stay very long, if he's sleeping. We can just leave it next to his bed so he'll see it when he wakes up."

Ezra smiled softly, trying not to focus on the nerves that had settled into his stomach. The nurse had said they were optimistic about Anthony's condition. They had full confidence that he could wake up any day now. How Ezra hoped that day would be today. What better way for Adam to spend his birthday than to be reunited with his father?

"That sounds wonderful, Adam," Ezra murmured. "Shall we get ourselves cleaned up and head down to the park? I'm sure the ducks are probably very hungry by now."

They probably weren't, seeing as ducks were very capable of finding their own food. Still, it was already almost 9 am and if they wanted to accomplish all of the things on Adam's birthday list, they were going to need to get moving soon.

"Can we give the ducks some birthday cake?" Adam asked as he helped Ezra carry the dishes back upstairs to the sink. He'd thought about simply keeping their birthday celebration upstairs, but Ezra had been afraid he would have accidentally woken Adam up while preparing everything. Luckily, they hadn't made too much of a mess downstairs and Ezra was sure he would be able to clean it up soon enough.

"Probably not the best idea, Adam," Ezra responded, placing the rest of their cake up on the countertop as the young boy dumped the dishes unceremoniously into the sink. The clattering sound made Ezra wince, but he said nothing. There was a reason he'd thought to grab his backup set of dishes instead of the good ones. "I don't think cake is good for ducks to eat. They might get sick."

"Ok." The boy had nothing further to say on the subject, so Ezra ushered him into the bedroom and ordered him to get changed so they could leave. Of course, he was already dressed and ready to go. He had been since 4:30 when the man had woken up from his cat nap to start on the cake.

Ezra waited patiently for Adam, mindlessly beginning to wash the dishes just so he had something for his hands to do. Unsurprisingly, his mind wandered back to thoughts of Anthony and what might happen when he finally woke up. They would get a call from the hospital and Adam would immediately insist on walking over. The two of them would gather around Anthony's bed and Ezra would watch as Adam threw his arms around his father, conveniently forgetting Ezra's order to be gentle with him.

As much as he would want to, Ezra wouldn't kiss Anthony there. He knew the risks if they were caught, so he would smile and delight in the joy of the love between father and son. And then, when Anthony was well again, Ezra would bring him back to the bookshop. Together, they would put Adam to bed and then head downstairs to sit on the couch and talk without fear of being interrupted. Ezra would reveal the letter and when Anthony went to apologize, like Ezra knew he would, Ezra would lean in and kiss him. He would tell Anthony all of the millions of reasons he was loved and cherished and he would finally see the man smile again.

Just the thought of it warmed Ezra's heart immensely. He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer for Anthony. He'd been praying a lot these days for a man who really didn't believe in God. The act had a way of calming him down, making him feel like he was doing something in a situation where nothing could be done.

Halfway through drying the dishes, Ezra stopped. Was that a knock at the door? It couldn't be. The man shook his head. He must be hearing things. The bookshop was _closed._ It had been for four days now. Ezra was sure that the sign was clearly posted in the window: 'closed until further notice'. No one in their right mind would be banging on the door now.

The sound drifted up the stairs again. It was definitely a knock on the door. Ezra quickly put the plate down and went to dry his hands. With each step he took, his heart began to race faster. He told himself not to get his hopes up. He told himself it couldn't be _him, _but Ezra's heart did not listen. He did not realize until that moment how desperately he needed it to be Anthony at the door when he opened it.

"Eustace." The name fell flat upon his lips. Ezra deflated, blue eyes taking in the older gentleman standing before him. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm here to retrieve young Master Crowley."

Ezra blinked. That couldn't be right. Adam was meant to be here with him. His mother had even said so. "Is Mrs. Crowley back from her trip already?"

The man's face was unreadable. He simply stared back at Ezra, waiting.

"It's just," Ezra tried again. "Adam's mother entrusted me with him. He's been through a terrible time recently, as I'm sure you know, and I don't know if it's the best idea to send him back unless there will be someone who will be _there_ for him. He needs the support right now."

"Your intentions are noble, Mr. Fell. But I must remind you that you are not the boy's parent."

Indignation rose up in Ezra's chest. "If his mother is not the one retrieving him, I must insist that you leave. She entrusted Adam into my care and I shall not relinquish him to - "

"_Mr_. Crowley was the one who sent for Adam."

Ezra froze. "What?" He felt his breath catch in his throat. "Anthony's in the hospital."

The man frowned, folding his hands calmly in front of his waist. "He was released this morning."

"Why wasn't I informed?" The nurse had said she would all as soon as Anthony woke up. If he'd been released this morning...surely that meant he had been awake for a while. They wouldn't have just sent him home minutes after. How long had he been awake? A few hours? A day? Longer?

Why had no one called?

Eustace shrugged. "You're being informed now, aren't you?"

"Where is he?" Ezra found himself asking, eyes glancing out over the butler's shoulder. Was Anthony nearby? Back at his home on the other side of town? Why hadn't he come to get Adam himself? Why hadn't he come to see Ezra?

The letter burned in his pocket, lighting Ezra's chest on fire. Right next to his heart, there was a piece of paper that _proved_ Anthony loved him, so why wasn't he here?

"He specifically asked not to see you." The words cut through Ezra like a blade, slicing him in two. "I was sent to pick up the boy instead. So, if we could just move things along a bit, I would appreciate it, Mr. Fell."

Anthony...didn't want to see him? The words tumbled around in Ezra's brain, jumbling together and not making any sense. Why would he do this? Was Anthony afraid of what Ezra might say? Had he changed his mind about how he felt? Did he fear what might happen to them if they revealed their true feelings for each other? Ezra understood the dangers. He'd been living with this reality his whole life. As far as he knew, Anthony had never even considered this before now.

Had he decided Ezra wasn't worth the trouble? Did he believe, like his letter had said, that he still deserved loneliness and separation? Was he trying not to arouse suspicion - take Adam now and come back for Ezra later?

Pushing every emotion back down, Ezra smiled at the man. "Of course. Why don't you come inside and I'll go get Adam."

Eustace peered inside as Ezra moved to let him come in. His eyes hovered over the bookshelves, taking in the streamers and all the tacky decorations. Ezra might have felt embarrassed had he not known how wonderful Adam had thought the room had looked when he'd woken up this morning.

"Love what you've done with the place."

They didn't have to go far. As soon as Ezra stepped inside and closed the door behind them, Adam came bounding down the stairs. He skidded to a stop behind Ezra at the sight of Eustace and gingerly took a half step sideways so the majority of his body was blocked by Ezra's leg. Forcing a smile, the man turned and knelt down before the birthday boy.

"Adam," Ezra began, reaching up a hand to tousle the curly hair. "I have a very important birthday surprise for you."

Hazel eyes flickered up to look at the older man's face. Hesitation was written all over Adam's face. Ezra tried to bite back his sorrow as he relayed the news. "Adam, Eustace is here to take you to go see your dad. Isn't that great?"

Adam's eyes widened. "I get to go see Dad?" He seemed unsure. Like he didn't quite believe them. Like this was some kind of trick and he was walking right into it.

"Yes," Ezra insisted, forcing more enthusiasm into his voice. "Your dad is awake, Adam. He's ready to see you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

The boy nodded slowly, a small smile peeking out from behind the uncertainty. "Are you coming with me?"

Ezra felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He forced them away. There would be time for crying later, when Adam was long gone. For now, Ezra would be all smiles. "Oh, I wish I could, dear boy, but I can't today. I have some things I must get done here, but I'll tell you what." He reached up with his thumb to wipe away the stray tear that had escaped from Adam's eye. "You give your dad a big hug for me and tell him to swing by the bookshop whenever he has a chance, alright? Can you do that for me?"

Adam nodded and Ezra pulled him into a tight hug. There was a very real possibility that this could be it. If Anthony chose it, this would be the last time he would ever see Adam. Ezra gritted his teeth and forced those thoughts away. He couldn't dwell on them now.

"Thank you, dear boy," Ezra murmured, pulling away. Slowly, he stood back up, reaching out a hand for Adam to take. "Now," he breathed, trying to focus his mind on the positives. Anthony was alive. Anthony was awake. Anthony wanted to see his son again. "Let's go gather your things, shall we? I would hate to keep your father waiting."

Crowley paced nervously back and forth in front of one of the benches in St. James Park. He pulled out his pocket watch to glance at the time for the sixth time in as many minutes, heaving a sigh of frustration. There was no reason for him to be so nervous. He had given Eustace specific instructions. Bring the boy, make sure Ezra didn't come too. Simple, really. So why was it taking so long?

Was there a problem at the bookshop? Had Ezra and Adam not been there? Was Ezra putting up a fight when confronted with the request to give Adam up? Would he try and follow them here to Crowley?

He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't do this. Subconsciously, Crowley brought a hand to his head and began running it through his ginger locks. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. He knew Ezra. The man would respect his wishes, right? If the truth of the matter was that Ezra _didn't _have feelings for him, then wouldn't he be relieved not to have to see Crowley again? And if he did...well, wasn't it better for them both if Crowley stayed away?

"Dad!"

Crowley was ripped from his current musings at the sound of his son's voice. In the blink of an eye, he had whirled around to see Adam running down the walkway toward him, Eustace following close behind. Without a second thought, Crowley crouched down and threw his arms open wide, readying himself for the embrace. Thoughts of Ezra and the countless times he had seen the man do this very thing filled his mind as Adam knocked into him, full force. The impact almost sent them both falling to the ground.

"I missed you, Dad," the boy mumbled into Crowley's hair. Tears pricked at the man's eyes as he held onto his son as tightly as he could. How could he have ever thought it possible to leave this boy? Guilt rose within him, threatening to choke all the breath from his lungs.

"I am so sorry, Adam," Crowley whispered fiercely, pulling back to look into Adam's eyes. "I promise, I'll never ever leave you again." Tears fell from his eyes. He did not reach a hand up to wipe them away. Crowley never wanted to move his arms from this embrace. "Can you ever forgive me?"

The boy grinned and Crowley's fears melted away. This boy was entirely too good for him, but he would never complain about it again. He would love Adam, and cherish him as the gift he was, whether Crowley believed he deserved it or not.

"Of course, Dad," Adam responded, leaning in for another hug. "I love you."

"I love you too, Adam," Crowley breathed. They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other in the middle of St. James Park as the ducks nearby quacked indignantly at the obvious lack of food.

Finally, the boy pulled away and Crowley released his hold. He remained in a squatting position, taking in the look on Adam's face. He was smiling, beaming almost, his eyes alight with an excitement that Crowley hadn't realized how much he'd missed until this very moment.

"Can we go back to the bookshop now?" Adam asked curiously as he turned around to look in the direction that he came. Eustace was still there, sitting on a bench a few dozen feet away. The butler had been the one to pick Crowley up at the hospital earlier this morning and drive him out here to meet up with his son. Crowley's original plan had been to take Adam back to the London house and start working on ways to keep him there.

The more he'd had time to think about it, Crowley realized he didn't have an issue with Adam attending day school. It was probably good for him to be surrounded by children his own age. He would still see the boy every afternoon and on thier weeks off, he and Adam could travel out to the cottage and spend time together there. It was as good enough a compromise as any and Crowley believed it was one he could live with.

He would be damned, however, if he allowed the boy to be shipped off to boarding school. Adam belonged with him, at least until he was old enough to fend for himself. Lilith wasn't going to be able to force the boy away from Crowley any longer. He was putting his foot down on the matter. Adam _would _stay in London for schooling. That decision was not up for debate. He just had to find a school good enough to meet his wife's standards so she would leave the two of them alone.

Crowley's heart sank when he registered Adam's question. The bookshop? Why did he want to go back to the bookshop? Wasn't he happy to be here with his father? Didn't he miss home and want to go back?

"I was thinking you and I could go home first," Crowley suggested lightly, not wanting to upset the boy. "We could get you settled back in and then go out for a special birthday treat."

He thought the mention that he'd remembered Adam's birthday would have elicited another smile from the boy. Crowley couldn't be more wrong. As soon as he had mentioned home, his son had frozen, tears falling from his eyes in a matter of seconds. He was shaking, starting to whimper. It broke Crowley's heart.

The man instantly wrapped his son in another embrace. "Shhh," he soothed. "I'm sorry, Adam. We don't have to go anywhere you don't want to go, alright?" What had happened? Why was the boy so upset about the thought of going back? "It's your birthday, alright? Whatever you want, it's yours."

Adam sniffled, and the shaking slowly subsided. "I don't want to go back," the boy whispered in a way that stabbed at Crowley's heart. "Ever." He didn't understand exactly what the boy was thinking or feeling, but the man could hazard a guess. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go back either. The place suddenly held too many bad memories.

There was somewhere else they could go. Somewhere quiet, peaceful, away from all the terrible parts of their past. A place where their future had seemed so bright once.

"Adam," Crowley began, pulling back to fix his eyes on his son's face. "I have a very important question to ask you, ok? And I need you to be completely honest with me, alright?"

The boy nodded slowly. Crowley didn't stop to think anything through. He simply plunged himself into the deep end. All the details could be figured out at a later time.

"Would you rather go back to the cottage?" he asked softly, looking for a sign in the boy's face to tell him that this arrangement would be acceptable. "Just you and me. We could live there, together. You could go to school and I could work on gardening or get a job somewhere in town. We wouldn't ever have to go back to the London house. We could start over."

Adam nodded his head, silently, a soft smile appearing on his face. Crowley smiled back and pulled the boy back into one more hug, for now at least. Relief washed through him and he felt excitement begin to build as the realization of what had just happened began to dawn on him.

They were going back, together. He and Adam were going _home_. And nothing, _nothing_, was going to make them leave ever again. Crowley would see to that.


	21. Finally Home

Ezra was not going to stand for this. If Anthony wanted Ezra out of his life, he was going to have to tell the man directly to his face. None of this, dodging around each other. No more confusing letters or inexplicable looks. No more hiding. He was going to face the man once and for all.

All he needed was a car and to figure out just where the hell Anthony had taken Adam.

The car bit was slightly easier to figure out. Ezra didn't have very many friends, but he'd always been told friends were one of those 'Quality over Quantity' aspects in life. And Ezra's friends were of the best quality around.

As soon as Adam was out of sight, Ezra picked up the phone and dialed Anathema's number. Newton was the one who picked up.

_Hullo, Ezra._

"Ah, yes. Newton. How are you? It's Ezra Fell. Your old neighbor."

_Yes, Ezra. I know it's you. I already said hello._

Ezra paused. So he had. Just how in the world had Newton known Ezra would be the one calling him this morning?

"How in the heavens did you know it was me?"

There was no possible way to see Newton's face at that precise moment, but somehow, one way or another, Ezra knew the man was smiling.

_Anathema told me. She had a sense that you'd be needing her. Left about an hour ago. I'm surprised she isn't there already._

Just then, a knock on the door sounded. Ezra looked up, shock appearing on his face. What in the world was going on?

"Hang on one moment, Newton. Someone is at the door."

_That will be Anathema. Give her my love and tell her to drive safe on the way back._

"Wait," Ezra began, "Newton - "

He had already hung up. Grumbling, the man put the phone down and hurried over to the door. This was the second time today someone knocked on his door when there was clearly a sign saying he was closed. Obviously, he needed to invest in a larger sign.

To his surprise, although it really shouldn't have been, Anathema was standing on the other side of the door. She smiled up at him, giving him a friendly waive, the skirt of her deep purple dress fluttering in the wind.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked patiently, reaching up to adjust her glasses.

Ezra frowned at her. "Go where?" Did she know where Anthony and Adam were? If so, how? Had he spoken to her since he'd been released from the hospital? Had Ezra been the only one Anthony refused to see?

The woman shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea. I just had a feeling you needed a ride this morning, so here I am. I was hoping you'd tell me where we were going."

The man simply stared at her, trying to process the information he was hearing. The last time he had seen Anathema, she had also claimed to 'have a feeling' that she would be needed and she had quite literally saved him from a mental breakdown. Did she have these sorts of feelings often? How long had she been having them? Were they always this accurate?

"Do you always just go wherever your 'feelings' take you?" the man asked, more curious than anything else.

Anathema laughed. "Most times. I've found that the more I listen to them, the better things turn out for everyone in the end."

Ezra wanted to ask her more, but he was starting to get anxious. As much as he wanted to satisfy his curiosity, the man's desire to find and confront Anthony was growing stronger by the minute. If he didn't get out of this bookshop and do something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

"I need to find Anthony," he stated without much else of an explanation. Anathema didn't need to know all the details to understand. "I'm not entirely sure where he and Adam might be, but my first guess is back at their house in Knightsbridge. Can you take me there?"

The woman shook her head and for a moment, Ezra thought she was saying no. It took a moment to realize she was laughing at him, an incredulous look on her face.

"That's what I'm here for, Ezra," she teased, brown eyes twinkling. The man felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Come on and get into the car."

Ezra followed her down the steps of the bookshop, making sure to lock the door behind him as he went. He climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door behind him before Anathema even had a chance to cross over to the other side.

"Newton sends his love," Ezra said the moment she sat down in the seat beside him, hoping the distraction would keep her from commenting on how nervous he was. Anathema simply smiled at him knowingly and put the car into drive.

It took them twenty minutes to weave their way through the streets of London, travelling from Soho down Piccadilly and towards the shopping district. As Anathema approached the familiar Victorian house, Ezra directed her to pull off to the side of the road. They sat idling in the car for a while as the blonde man wracked his brain for another idea.

The bentley was gone, which meant Anthony wasn't here. There was a possibility that Ezra hadn't given Eustace enough time to bring Adam to wherever Anthony was and then return both of them to the house, but something told him that wasn't the case. The memory of Adam wailing at the thought of returning here made Ezra think that the boy and his father would not be arriving at this residence anytime soon.

If they weren't coming here, where else would they go? Sure, they could spend some time at the park or going to get dessert, but eventually they would have to go home to sleep. Should Ezra wait for them here? He had no idea how long they would be or if they would even end up here eventually or go someplace completely different. How was he supposed to find them?

As Ezra thought, the image of country lanes and rows upon rows of trees filled his mind's eye. _Home_. Home was supposed to be the place a person felt at ease - where they were their happiest. Ezra had only seen Anthony truly happy in one place.

He smiled, heart starting to flutter wildly in his chest as the thought settled into his mind. He was going to see Anthony again. He was going to find that idiotic man and finally, _finally_, tell him how he felt.

"I know where they are."

Anathema grinned, then put the car into gear. She pulled swiftly out onto the road and turned around at the next corner, heading south.

"Then let's drive."

Unpacking a second time was much more difficult than the first. When they had arrived at the cottage last time, Crowley had sent Adam off with Ezra to explore while he had unloaded all of their supplies. This time, he was still doing all of the unpacking himself, but was having a much harder time of it. His hands seemed to move slower, the dishes and clothes and other trinkets they'd brought seemed much heavier.

Adam was not off exploring this time. Crowley felt much better with him close by, so he'd set the boy up at the kitchen table with some paper and crayons. Every so often, the man would peek up over his son's shoulder and check on the progress of his drawing. In the time it had taken him to put all the dishes away and take stock of their food stores, Adam had already finished one portrait of his stuffed dog and had moved onto another one of what Crowley thought was a pond full of ducks. It was hard to tell.

"Hey Dad," Adam began as Crowley moved into the sitting room to sort through some of the other boxes the had brought with them. "Is Mum going to come live with us here?"

Crowley froze, panic seizing at him. What had possessed Adam to ask about his mother? Did he want Lilith to be here with them? Or was he simply asking out of curiosity? The last thing Crowley wanted to do was disappoint Adam, but he wasn't going to lie to the boy either. So what did he say?

"No, Adam," the man began slowly, looking up to gauge his son's reaction. "She's not."

He waited. Adam did not pause in his coloring. He did not look upset, or entirely happy about the information either. If anything, the boy looked indifferent, with perhaps a hint of contemplativeness.

"How come?" Again, there was no sign of sadness. Just mild curiosity.

Crowley took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. Adam asked some damn good questions sometimes. It could be difficult to come up with answers that explained the situation accurately enough but didn't hurt the boy in some way.

"Because," he began, not having even a clue what was going to come out of his mouth. Crowley simply plowed ahead and hoped for the best. "Adults usually only live together when they love each other. And your mom doesn't love me anymore. So she's going to stay in London and I will stay here. And you can be here too, if that's what you want. Or you can go back to London. The choice is yours."

He hadn't exactly _talked _to Lilith about those details yet, since she'd been out of town when he'd woken up, but Crowley was determined to work through this. If Adam wanted to stay in the country with him, then by god, the man would make sure that happened. And if he didn't...Crowley would work out a way to see Adam as much as possible. He would drive up to London every goddamn day if it meant getting to spend time with his son.

Adam nodded his head like the explanation made sense. Crowley sighed in relief when he heard the words, "I want to stay here with you."

Silence fell between them for a moment and Crowley turned back to the task at hand. Adam had brought quite a bit of stuff with him from Ezra's house. Several sets of clothes, pajamas, blankets and pillows and a whole box filled with books. Most, if not all of this stuff would go upstairs to his room, but maybe Crowley could keep one of the blankets down here and hang it over the couch for when winter came and it got colder.

"Dad?" The voice rang out again, in that same curious tone. Crowley stopped what he was doing once more and looked up.

"Yes, Adam?"

Adam did not stop what he was doing. Blue crayon in hand, he scribbled across the page, his legs swinging back and forth under the table. "Does that mean Mr. Fell can come live with us?"

What?

Crowley blinked. What in the world was Adam on about? Why would Ezra come and live out here? He had a perfectly good home in London.

"Why do you ask that?" It made no sense. Why had that question popped into his son's mind. Did he _want _Ezra to come live here? Was being here with Crowley not enough for Adam? The man's heart ached at the thought.

Adam looked up, fixing his hazel eyes on Crowley. "You said that Mum couldn't live with us because she doesn't love you." Yes. He had said that. Crowley waited to hear what Adam would say next, still not understanding his son's thought process. "Mr. Fell loves you. So that means he can live here, right?"

Crowley's heart stopped beating. His lungs forgot how to breathe. His brain turned off. Those words echoed in the space around him, repeating themselves over and over again as the man stared at his son, mouth slightly agape.

_Mr. Fell loves you. Mr. Fell _loves _you. Mr. Fell loves _you.

"How do you know that?" Crowley asked his son in a rush of words and emotion. He was hovering on a precipice, one step away from falling in - to what, he had no idea.

"He told me," Adam stated matter-of-factly. "He said that you're his prince." A giggle emerged from the boy's lips. So light and pure and full of childlike joy.

"His prince," Crowley echoed, feeling like the puzzle pieces were all there on the table in front of him. All he had to do was reach out and piece them together.

"Yeah _Dad_," Adam teased, turning back to his drawing. "Like in the fairytales. You told me upstairs after Mr. Fell was hurt. Re-mem-ber?"

Crowley did remember. He remembered exactly what he had said to Adam that night. _Sometimes the prince doesn't fall in love with the princess. Sometimes he falls in love with another prince instead._

What had Adam said? That Ezra had told the boy Crowley was his prince? That he loved Crowley?

His heart was beating so fast inside his chest, Crowley thought he was going to pass out. The man believed Adam, with every fiber of his being. There was absolutely no reason for the boy to lie to him, not about this. Ezra loved him. Ezra was _in love_ with him.

And he had left Ezra behind.

Crowley was at the phone in an instant, dialing the number he'd memorized with shaky hands, although he had never actually called it before. What an _idiot_ he had been. Crowley had convinced himself that it would be better for him not to know where Ezra's affections lay. That the risk was too great, the potential for rejection too strong. He'd even convinced himself that finding out his angel _did _love him would be just as bad as knowing he didn't.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The hope welling inside of him was unlike anything Crowley had ever known. It lifted him up, bringing tears to his eyes. It made him feel like he could do anything - fly to the stars, swim to the deepest depths of the ocean.

Gripping the phone in his hand, Crowley anchored himself to the ground. This was the only thing preventing him from simply floating away. The sound rang in his ear, grounding him, keeping him in this reality, this wonderful life where he loved an angel and his angel loved him _back._

No one picked up the phone. Crowley hung up, then tried again. He knew this was the right number. He'd memorized it ages ago in the days when Ezra had still gone home after working with Adam for the day. There was always a chance the bookshop owner would be needed, so Crowley had prepared himself. Still, no one answered.

"Dad!' Adam shouted from the other room. "Someone's here."

Crowley heard the familiar crunching of the gravel drive, signaling a car had arrived. He felt his stomach plumet. Who could be here at a time like this? They'd only just arrived. Who else knew he was here? Surely Lilith couldn't have found them already. He was preparing to face her at some point - to convince her that it was best for Adam and for him that the boy remain here. But he hadn't had enough time yet!

"Adam," Crowley said sharply. "Go upstairs. Don't come down until I say it's alright."

Thankfully, the boy didn't argue. He launched himself from his seat and hurried to the staircase, racing up on all fours before darting into his room and slamming the door. Crowley moved to the front door, opening it up and stepping outside to find a rather simple light blue car parked on the other side of the courtyard gate. Crowley closed the door behind him and took a few steps forward only to stop as he spotted a familiar halo of golden curls appearing out of the passenger side door.

As soon as Ezra had stepped out of the car, the driver pulled away, leaving the two men alone in the courtyard.

Ezra was furious. His face was contorted, fists clenched at his side. The man stalked over to Crowley with purpose and as he drew closer, Crowley could see tears already forming in his eyes. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say, but to simply stand there and take the full force of whatever storm was coming.

"Explain yourself!" the normally at-ease man demanded, reaching into his pocket to pull out an all-too familiar piece of parchment. Crowley felt an intense mixture of joy and fear fill him simultaneously. Joy, because his angel was _here_, standing right in front of him. Fear, because he had Crowley's suicide letter in his hands and by the look on his face, there was no way Ezra hadn't read it.

"Angel," tears filled his eyes as he struggled to find the words. Ezra still loved him, right? He may be angry, but he wouldn't have come all this way if he didn't still love Crowley, would he? "Angel, I'm so sorry."

Ezra stopped, just outside of arm's reach. In his heart, all Crowley wanted to do was pull the man in closer and never let him go, but he refrained from such action. Ezra was expecting an answer and the red haired man owed him one.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" The anger was fading, if only a little.

Crowley drew in a deep breath, fixing his eyes on the beautiful blue ones staring back at him. Gods, he could never tire of looking at those eyes. The man's face, even when filled with anger and sorrow was captivating.

"I'm sorry I tried to end my life. I'm sorry I left you with only a letter. I'm sorry I told the hospital not to call you. I'm sorry I ran away without coming to see you. I'm sorry I took Adam away from you." _I'm sorry for a lot of other things, but mostly I'm sorry I hid the truth from you._

Ezra looked at him for a very long time. His eyes never left Crowley's face and the man found himself gazing into them, transfixed, waiting with bated breath to see what his angel would say next.

"Why- " Ezra's voice broke, tears finally falling from his eyes. The crack was just enough to let his angel's heartbrokenness seep through. It overflowed from him and Crowley felt his body begin to tremble with the force of holding himself back. He could not run to Ezra. Not yet. The man deserved an explanation, no matter how much it terrified Crowley to give him one.

"Why did you do it?" _Why did you leave me behind?_

The unspoken question echoed around them far louder than anything Ezra had said. It stabbed at Crowley's heart, but he was determined to stand strong. Taking a deep breath, he began, the words tumbling out of him.

"I was terrified to face you, after what I'd done," the man admitted, glancing away from Ezra's face for the first time. "I knew that no matter what I did, I was going to lose you and I couldn't bare to have that happen. If I had come to you and told you face to face how I felt, you would either turn me away, or tell me you felt the same." He looked back up, trying to gauge a reaction from the blonde haired man. All he saw were shining blue eyes, filled with tears.

"Thoughts of your rejection filled me with despair. And thoughts of your acceptance made me realize that if I were able to have it - if I were somehow, miraculously, able to have your love, I would never be able to part with it again. I'm not a fool. I know what the world would do to us if they ever found out and I - " Crowley cursed his emotions internally as his voice broke. He'd been so close to getting it all out without breaking down. As he'd said those last words, images of Ezra, beaten and broken filled his mind and his heart had been overcome with an anguish too great to hold back. He crumpled his face in his hands, shaking his head viciously back and forth to shake the thoughts away.

"I can't watch you get hurt, Ezra," Crowley sobbed. "Not again. Not for something so beautiful and good and pure like your love. I was afraid that if I saw you again, I would be powerless to stop..._this._" He gestured between the two of them. "And someday, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a month, maybe ten years from now, you'd be taken away from me and punished for giving me something I didn't even deserve."

He chanced a glance at Ezra again and saw to his astonishment that the man was smiling. Tears still flowed from his eyes, staining his cheeks with glistening iridescent lines, but he was smiling.

Crowley stood rooted to the spot as Ezra closed the distance between them. He stopped, just shy of pressing his chest up against Crowley's. The man felt desire burn through him, and it took all of his willpower to hold back, to wait and _listen_ to what his angel was about to say.

Ezra's smile was blindingly bright. It lit up the man's entire face, pouring out of him like water from a fountain. Crowley could almost feel Ezra's affection for him as he looked into those dazzling blue eyes. His breath caught in his throat, knees knocking together, face flushed with heat and desire and a longing so strong it nearly drove him to madness.

The man raised a hand to Crowley's cheek and brushed his thumb to wipe away the tears. Unable to keep away any longer, the red haired man leaned down to touch their foreheads together, closing his eyes momentarily to savor the moment. He would remember this day for the rest of his life.

Crowley opened his eyes once more and found Ezra gazing up at him with more adoration and love than the man had ever experienced in his life before. He felt his heart race faster with each breath he took, unable to look away from the angel standing before him.

"You deserve every bit of happiness in the world, my _dearest _Anthony," Ezra murmured fiercely and Crowley was finished. The walls he'd so carefully constructed between them came tumbling down. He no longer belonged to himself. Crowley would, from this moment forward, belong only to Ezra.

A gentle pressure on his cheek began to pull Crowley closer. He followed the guiding motion as a moth drawn to a flame. His flame was the angel known Ezra Fell and as Ezra's face drew closer and closer, Crowley could feel everything within him intensifying, aching for the moment when his greatest wishes would be realized.

He could feel Ezra's shuddering breaths as the man drew infinitely closer. The tremble of his hand against Crowley's cheek was delicate and sent sparks of electricity down the man's spine. He breathed in deeply, then, not being able to stand the separation any longer, Crowley surged forward and closed the distance between them.

Lips met lips and the man's eyes fluttered shut. His hands rose to Ezra's neck, his face, his hair, grasping at anything he could find to bring his angel closer to him. An overwhelming sense of _love _filled him and Crowley was undone. He felt the world shift around him as he kissed Ezra with all the love and adoration he knew how to give. Things would never be the same again.

Slowly, Crowley tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He heard Ezra's sharp intake of breath as the man's hand fell to grasp at Crowley's waist, pressing their bodies together. _This. _This was everything Crowley never even knew he wanted. He would never be able to walk away from this wonderfully, intoxicatingly, _beautiful_ thing that was between them. Ezra had his heart and soul for the rest of eternity. There was nothing in this world Crowley wouldn't do for the chance to _be _with this man in every way possible.

Eventually, they broke away, gasping for breath, faces flushed with love and desire. Crowley rested his forehead against Ezra's again and closed his eyes, savoring the familiar smell of old books and tea leaves that always seemed to accompany the man.

"I love you, Anthony," Ezra whispered, kissing him again, softly, as if he were made of porcelain. Crowley felt his heart soar, finally hearing those words out loud. "I should have told you much sooner, but like you, I was afraid. I didn't believe you could ever love me back."

Crowley shifted his hands to cup Ezra's face. He kissed the man's lips, his cheeks, up to his forehead and down to the tip of his nose, relishing how the man laughed at his obvious affections. "How could I not, angel?" he asked softly, kissing him again and again and again. He could do that now. He could kiss Ezra in the safety of this place without fear of humiliation or rejection or loss. "You're perfect. You're kindness incarnate. I believe I told you that on one of the first nights we spoke to each other."

Ezra laughed, remembering that night. "I believe that was when I helped carry your drunken arse upstairs to bed."

The red haired man grinned. "I don't remember much about that night," he moved his thumb to caress the cheek beneath his fingertips, "but I remember you. I think that was the night my affections for you began."

Ezra's sharp intake of breath sent shivers down Crowley's spine. "And mine for you," he breathed, leaning up to press another kiss against Crowley's lips, smiling as he did so, his hands still clutching firmly to the man's waist. "No one had ever said such kind things about me before."

Another kiss. "No one had ever cared about me that much before," Crowley responded.

The two men stood there for a while longer, unable to wipe the smiles from their faces. Crowley felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt as though he'd been given a new life. How could he have ever thought that _this_ would be bad? Yes, there were risks to what they had done, what they were doing, but being loved by Ezra? That was worth every risk in the world.

Crowley leaned forward for another kiss when he heard the unmistakable sound of a window sliding open. Smiling, he stepped away to find a pair of small hands in one of the upstairs windows, pushing the glass up as hard as he could.

"Dad!" a voice called down through the tiny crack Adam had managed to make between the window and the sill. Looking up, they couldn't see his face. The curtains were still drawn tight, but they could see the smallest of mouths squeezing itself through the gap, trying to make itself heard.

"Dad, is it safe to come down?"

Crowley laughed, turning around to look up at his son. In doing so, his arm slipped around Ezra's waist and he pulled the man in closer to him. He was never letting go of his angel ever again.

"Come downstairs, Adam," his father ordered. "Your birthday surprise is here."

Adam gave a loud cheer and disappeared from the window, leaving it hanging open for all the bugs and birds and squirrels to sneak through. Crowley shook his head, looking down at Ezra to give him one last lingering kiss before they were interrupted.

"Mr. Fell!" the boy shouted as he threw open the door. Without a second thought, Adam ran to Ezra who had already taken up his squatting position, arms thrown open wide. "I knew you'd come find us!"

Ezra laughed, picking the boy up to twirl him around joyfully. Crowley watched as his son clung to his angel, the light of love in both of their eyes. Happiness overwhelmed him and he couldn't help himself. The man flung open his arms and wrapped them around the pair, squashing them into a giant bear hug against his chest.

This was all he needed in life to be happy. His son, Adam. His angel, Ezra, and this cozy little cottage in the country that finally, _finally_, felt like home.


	22. Burning the Broken

"One more story? Dad, please!"

Ezra laughed from his position at the foot of Adam's bed as Anthony closed the copy of 'The Tale of Peter Rabbit' and fixed his amber eyes on his son. The man was leaning up against the headboard, his arm tucked around Adam's shoulders, the book sitting on their laps. His long legs extended outward, toes occasionally brushing up against Ezra's knee, sending tingles down the man's spine.

"It's late Adam," Anthony chided. "You need to get to sleep. We can read more tomorrow."

The boy's eyes went wide. "You _promise_?"

Anthony chucked at his son, his eyes flickering up to Ezra's face. The man felt his heart skip a beat and his face begin to flush. They had spent the entire day with Adam, playing out in the field, looking for salamanders, splashing around in the creek. While it had been one of the happiest days of Ezra's life, the man was very much looking forward to some alone time with Anthony. They hadn't had a chance to properly talk since their kiss this morning and Ezra found that he desperately needed to.

"I promise," Anthony responded, leaning down to give Adam a kiss on top of his head. "Now, please, go to sleep." Ezra watched as the red haired man stood up and moved to the side of the bed, giving him plenty of space to say his own 'goodnights' to Adam.

"Sweet dreams, my dear boy," Ezra murmured in Adam's ear as the boy settled down into his bed, drawing the covers up tightly around him, "and Happy Birthday."

The two men quietly made their way out of the room and down the steps, not daring to speak a word until they were safely back into the sitting room. Ezra reached the bottom floor first and started making his way toward the couch to sit down, but was stopped by a hand pulling gently on his elbow. Turning around, the blonde haired man found himself face to face with Anthony. Before he could say another word, the man's lips were on him.

Ezra melted into the kiss. His knees went weak and his legs began to buckle only to have Anthony wrap a surprisingly strong arm around him, securing the man exactly where he was. Seemingly of their own accord, Ezra's hands rose to meet the back of Anthony's neck, tangling themselves in his fiery hair.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Anthony whispered in his ear when they finally parted. The hot breath on his skin sent shivers down Ezra's spine. He wrapped his arms around Anthony's neck and kissed him back, eliciting a pleasant moan from the man. Ezra grinned into the kiss.

"Oh, I'd say I have a fairly good idea."

They kissed again and Ezra felt like he was flying. He still couldn't believe that this gorgeous man could see him as anything more than just a passing acquaintance. That Anthony not only wanted to be around him, but wanted to _love _him, romantically. Ezra had never had that before. No one had ever loved him like this. The man had experienced his fair share of affection and the heartbreak of unrequited love, but this was the first time someone had dared to love him back. He still had a hard time believing it was real.

_I love you, Ezra Fell. I love you more than anyone I have ever known. _The words from Anthony's letter rang in his ears and Ezra froze. Sensing his distress, Anthony immediately pulled back, amber eyes wide.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, keeping his voice at a whisper. Adam likely wasn't asleep yet and neither one of them wanted to give him a reason to climb out of bed and come downstairs. Especially not now when they were finally alone.

A spark of fear was alight in Anthony's eyes and Ezra felt a pang of sorrow spread through him. He gave the man a soft smile and leaned back in to press a light kiss to his lips. Ezra hoped it would be reassuring.

"Everything is alright, my dear," Ezra soothed, placing his palm on Anthony's cheek. The man closed his eyes and leaned into it, bringing his hands up to meet Ezra's, keeping the contact there. "It has just been an overwhelming few days, is all."

Anthony sighed, then opened his eyes. They were still tinged with sorrow, but there was a glimmer of something else there. Something that Ezra had never dared hope to see coming from another human being when looking at him.

_Love._

"You never used to call me that."

Ezra blinked. Never used to to call him what? The man thought back to his previous statement, analyzing every word, looking for what Anthony had meant.

"My dear?" That was the only thing the man could have been referring to. Ezra gazed up at Anthony's face as he nodded slowly. A flash of guilt filled him, face falling before he could stop it.

"I am sorry," Ezra began. "At first, you were my employer and I made a special effort to be professional." Anthony nodded, Ezra's hand still planted firmly on his cheek. The explanation made sense. "And then, well - after my affections for you began to grow, I was afraid that if I let the endearment slip, you would be able to tell the difference. I was afraid you would find me out."

Anthony smiled at this. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to Ezra's lips. "You give me entirely too much credit, angel."

There. That name sent chills down Ezra's spine and fire through his veins. How those two effects were simultaneously possible, he had no idea, but Anthony Crowley was able to create them every time the word 'angel' left his perfect lips.

"Anthony," Ezra began, wanting to get something off his chest before they got too _distracted_ again. "There is something I'd like to discuss with you. Would you mind if we sat down?"

They did. Ezra took a seat on the couch and Anthony followed him. They sat facing each other, knees brushing, one man's hand clasped in the other's. Ezra used his free hand to reach in his vest pocket and pulled out two envelopes. One of them was still sealed shut.

Anthony's face fell and Ezra suddenly felt awful for bringing the topic up again so soon, but it had been eating away at him for days. He'd barely been able to sleep at all and the man knew that if he wanted the both of them to be truly free to be happy, they had to talk this through.

"Ezra," the red haired man began, averting his gaze. "I'm so sorry about those. I wasn't thinking clearly, as you well know and I - "

Ezra squeezed his hand, cutting the man off. "Anthony, I didn't pull these out to berate you for what happened in the past," he murmured, wishing the man would look back at him. "I just need to know that it _is _in the past. That I don't have to live every day of my life in fear of losing you to this."

He paused, taking in a ragged breath wondering just where had all these emotions come from. Just a moment ago, Ezra had been perfectly fine, and now it was like he was back in the bookshop, reading the letter for the first time. His heart was breaking.

The pain must have shown through somehow, because Anthony's eyes were on him again, shining with dedication, devotion, determination. "I swear it, Ezra. I will never leave you or Adam again. Not now, not ever. I will do whatever I need to do to prove that to you. I will take that letter and throw it deep into the ocean, or let it burn up in a wildfire. I will write you a hundred thousand new letters until you've forgotten what this one says. You have my word, angel. I will never harm myself again."

Ezra believed him. The relief he felt was overwhelming. Tears in his eyes, the man leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Anthony, holding onto him tightly as he felt graceful hands come to rest atop his head, gently running through his hair.

"Could we do that?" Ezra asked after a moment, sitting back up to look at his beloved. Anthony gazed over at him. For once they were about the same height.

"Do what?" Anthony asked. Ezra smiled softly when he realized that the man, while perceptive, was not privy to all of the thoughts that ran through his mind.

Ezra held out the envelopes, handing them to Anthony. The man took them cautiously, but did not move his hand away. "Burn the letters," Ezra explained, looking into those beautiful amber eyes he loved so much. "Perhaps not in a wildfire. I would hate to find one of those around here, but I'm sure we could make due with the fireplace we have here."

Anthony's eyes went wide. "Are you sure?"

The man smiled, releasing his hand from the paper. "I don't want them anymore. I don't need a reminder of all that's been broken. I want to look to the future, Anthony, not dwell on the past."

Anthony nodded, tears in his eyes and a small smile on his face. "As you wish." He slid the letters onto the table next to him. Ezra noticed him pause for a moment, staring down at the parchment still in his fingertips.

The man turned back to Ezra, Adam's letter in his hand, the seal still perfectly intact.

"You didn't read this." His words were a statement, not a question, but they sounded incredulous all the same.

Ezra shook his head. How could he? That letter was addressed to Adam. The man had no right to read someone else's letter, even if the boy had been in Ezra's care at the time. It just didn't seem right.

"It wasn't for me to read."

Anthony's eyes widened. "And you didn't give it to him to read?"

Ezra shook his head. "When the doctors told me they thought you were going to wake up, I saw no need. Had you taken a turn for the worse, I would have."

In an instant, Anthony's arms were around him and Ezra was falling unceremoniously back onto the couch. There was no way he could have prepared himself for it, so the man simply let it happen. He felt Anthony's face bury itself in his neck and Ezra gently lifted his arms to wrap them around the man's shoulders.

"You really are an angel, Ezra," he heard Anthony murmur into his skin. The hotness of his breath and the weight of the man's body on his caused something to stir inside of Ezra. The man willed the feelings away, trying not to focus on how delightful Anthony smelled in that moment. How soft the skin of his neck felt underneath Ezra's fingertips. How tantalizingly close Anthony's ear was. How all he wanted to do was lean forward and -

Anthony sat up, startling Ezra from his thoughts. Quickly, the blonde haired man moved to straighten his clothes. Heat filled his cheeks and he hoped that in the dimness of the room it wasn't too obvious to Anthony how flustered he had just become.

Turning the letter over in his hand, Anthony handed it back to Ezra. "Did you want to read it?" he asked, hesitantly, "You can, if you want to."

Ezra shook his head. There was no need. Anthony had convinced him that he had nothing more to fear. What point was there in reading what could have been the man's last words to his son? Anthony wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. There would be plenty more words to be said, which, in Ezra's eyes, made the letter invalid.

"Let's get rid of them, together."

Twenty minutes later, the two men sat side by side on the couch, watching as the flames licked the corners of the parchment. Black ash curled in on itself and within a few seconds, the hurtful words were gone. Ezra smiled and leaned into Anthony as the man wrapped his arm around Ezra's shoulders. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He could stay here like this forever.

"I'll be expecting a replacement, you know," Ezra teased, hugging Anthony's waist just a little bit tighter. "Perhaps not ten thousand, but one or two couldn't hurt."

Anthony laughed. Ezra felt the man lean down and place a kiss atop his head. "Consider it done, my angel."

Eventually, Anthony stirred, trying his best to hold back a yawn. Ezra suddenly felt very tired. Sleep had been a difficult thing to hold onto these last few days. Now, it seemed that all the minutes that had escaped him earlier had returned all at once in full force.

"We should get some rest," Anthony murmured into his ear. Ezra shivered, then nodded his head in agreement. The comfort of his bed was already calling to him.

Slowly, they stood, walking hand in hand back toward the staircase. After a few steps, Anthony hung back, letting Ezra take the lead.

As he approached the staircase, the man felt uncertainty take root at the edge of his mind. What did Anthony expect him to do? Did he want Ezra to go back upstairs to his old room? Was he wishing for Ezra to open the door to the larger bedroom downstairs? Ezra had never shared a bed with anyone before. What if he was terrible at it? What if he snored? What if he _didn't _stay and Anthony had another night terror?

Ezra paused and took a deep breath. What did _he _want to do? Ignoring everything else, if he just focused on his own feelings, where did Ezra want to sleep tonight?

He turned to face Anthony. "My dear," Ezra began, his voice no louder than a whisper. Adam would surely hear them now if they were to speak at a normal volume. "I feel we have a habit of concealing our true feelings from each other. This is a habit I would very much like to break." He took another breath, trying and failing to decipher the current look in Anthony's eyes. It was far too dark to see anything of use.

"In the interest in being more open with how I feel," the man continued, feeling the sudden urge to rub his hands together. As one was still trapped between Anthony's fingers, that was not going to be an option. "I would very much like to spend the night with you, Anthony, if you would have me, that is."

Even in the darkness, it would be impossible to miss the bright smile that appeared on Anthony's face. The sight of it sent Ezra's heart soaring. He had done that. He had made his beloved _that_ happy.

"I will always have you, angel," Anthony breathed back, stepping close to kiss Ezra softly. "In whatever way you are willing to give me."

Ezra's breath hitched at the sudden closeness and profession of affection. His eyes lingered on the man's face, taking in every sharp, beautiful line, such a contrast to Ezra's own roundness. Side by side, they looked so different, and they _were _different. Yet they fit together perfectly, like they had been made for each other.

Before his courage could leave him once more, Ezra surged forward and pressed his lips against Anthony's with a little bit more intention than the last kiss they had shared. Anthony moaned with pleasure and Ezra had to pull back and shush him, reminding him with a pointed glance that Adam was _right_ at the top of the stairs.

Anthony simply chuckled under his breath before opening the door beside him. With one last kiss that took Ezra's breath away, he pulled away and dragged Ezra into the bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind them.


	23. Difficult Conversations

Summer was quickly coming to an end. After Adam's birthday had passed, there were only two weeks left before school was scheduled to begin again. As much as Crowley didn't want to think about it, Adam needed to go back to school.

He was signed up to attend Devonshire, on the north side of London. If the boy lived here with them, it would mean over an hour and a half drive each way to get Adam to and from school. Crowley wasn't against doing something as mundane as driving his son back and forth to school if it meant the boy could stay, but his life would be much easier, and Adam would be much happier if he was allowed to attend a local school. As soon as London was finally in the past, they would all be much better off.

The trouble was, Crowley hadn't heard from Lilith at all in the week since he'd woken up. He had no idea how long she was planning on staying away. Once she returned to London, would she realize where they had gone? Would she come find them herself? Send someone else to retrieve Adam?

Gods, he hoped she didn't get the police involved. Anthony hadn't done anything wrong when it came to Adam. The boy was still his son. He had every right to take him to the country while on summer break, no matter how much his wife might disapprove. If Lilith did get law enforcement involved, there wasn't anything they could do about the situation with Adam. With Ezra, however…

Crowley gritted his teeth, trying to force away the negative thoughts. This past week with Ezra had been the best week of his entire life. He had never known happiness like this existed before. The thought that it could so easily be taken away from him the moment the wrong person found out terrified him.

They hadn't told Adam yet. Crowley knew that his son was aware that the two men loved each other. That fact alone was enough to get them both arrested if the boy mentioned anything about it while he was at school. Crowley knew that he and Ezra had to sit down and have a difficult conversation with him. They needed to explain to him just what might happen if he mentioned anything about the relationship between his father and Ezra. Crowley just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

He didn't _want_ to talk to Adam about this. Crowley didn't want to explain to his son the cruelty of the world any more than he already had. He didn't want Adam to live his life in fear of what might happen to their little family if any one of them slipped up, but he had to. Crowley would do whatever he needed to in order to keep his family safe.

"What's got you so lost in thought?"

Ezra's voice gently pulled Crowley back into the current moment. He rolled over, marveling at how the morning light filtered in through the curtains, falling on the man's hair _just right_ so that it looked like an actual halo. Crowley smiled, heartbeat increasing as his eyes danced over the form lying beside him.

Every single night for the past week, Crowley had been joined by his angel in bed. They had kissed and talked well into the night. They'd laid in the bed with their arms wrapped around each other until sleep overcame them. Neither one of them had made a move to go any further than that, and despite how much Crowley desperately wanted to, he was making himself wait. Historically, the man had a habit of moving too quickly, especially when it came to things in the field of romance. Hell, he'd married Lilith after three months of knowing her and look how that turned out. Crowley was convinced that with Ezra, things would be different, but he was terrified of moving too fast.

"I love you," Crowley murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against Ezra's, relishing how the other man sighed in delight at the contact.

Ezra smiled at him when he pulled back, but Crowley knew there was a thought hovering in the man's mind, about to make its way out. He could tell by the intense look in those blue eyes. "As much as I adore you, and as much as I know you must think about me on a daily basis," a glint of mischief appeared in his eyes and it was all Crowley could do not to take him right then and there, "I sincerely doubt thoughts of me would create such a pensive look on your beautiful face."

Crowley blushed. He still hadn't gotten accustomed to hearing such praise, especially not from someone he thought so highly of. "I was thinking about Adam," he finally admitted, remembering how he and Ezra had talked about being more open with each other. "We need to talk to him, but I don't want to. I don't want to scare him."

His angel nodded slowly. "Perhaps we could go on a walk today, ease him into it. I could pack us a picnic, if you'd like."

At the sound of the word 'picnic', Crowley's face turned bright red. He didn't even have a chance to try to hide it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Ezra asked, a hint of concern seeping into his voice. The bed shifted under his weight as the man readjusted his position to try and get a better look at Crowley's face as the redhead turned away.

Crowley mumbled a response that he knew would be indecipherable, but was the best he could do given the circumstances. Just the memory of his dream from a few weeks earlier was enough to set his entire body on fire. He clutched at the side of the bed, giving his hand something to hold onto, anchoring him in place. Without it, Crowley wasn't sure what he would do.

"Anthony, darling," the term of endearment only served to fuel Crowley's desire even more. His mind filled with visions of sweet kisses and roaming hands. Confessions of love and adoration as they lay outside under the clear summer sky. A groan escaped his lips as Crowley rolled back over to face his angel.

"I had a dream," the man admitted, gazing up into those brilliant blue eyes. "About me, and you and a picnic…" he trailed off, the heat rising to his face, throat closing with emotion. Fuck, this was difficult. Crowley swore he'd never shown such restraint in his life.

Ezra beamed at him and the fire grew even more intense. Crowley swore he let out a soft, desperate moan but it was overtaken by this angel's commentary. "That sounds absolutely delightful, Anthony! You'll have to tell me all about it over breakfast."

Crowley simply shook his head, burying his face in the pillow. Maybe if he didn't look at Ezra, he could calm down enough to form a coherent thought.

"Whyever not?" The hurt in Ezra's voice was evident. Crowley groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut to try and gather together all of the blood that was still left in his brain. Quickly, before he had a change of heart, the man turned to face Ezra.

"Because, angel," he sighed, looking up into those wide eyes. Ezra was kneeling on the bed beside him, hands folded anxiously on his lap. "It's not the sort of dream one discusses politely at the breakfast table. _Especially_ when there are little ears around to hear."

Exactly four agonizing seconds passed by before Ezra made the connection. His face turned beet red and he hurriedly looked away.

"Oh," he managed to force out. "I uh, I see"

Crowley sighed, falling back onto the pillow, eyes staring up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I've been trying my best, angel, but I can't help how much I _want_ you. It's maddening.

A halo of blonde curls appeared in his line of sight. Crowley felt the bed shift again as Ezra climbed closer. His heart stopped when the man gingerly moved one of his legs from this side of Crowley's waist to the other so that he was hovering overtop of him.

"Ezra…" Crowley warned. The man simply smiled and leaned down to give him a kiss. Despite all his tactics, Crowley's hands released themselves from the matress and flew up to the sides of Ezra's face, pulling him ever closer

The blonde haired man moaned and Crowley could stand it no longer. He launched himself upward, flipping them both over so that he was lying on top of Ezra, chest against chest, his leg between the man's thighs.

"I want you too, my dear," Ezra whispered into his ear. Crowley shuddered. His fingers were already struggling to undo the buttons closest to his angel's neck, lips still pressed up against Ezra's. Desire raged through him, so strong he was shaking, but Crowley vowed to hold firm. He had waited too long for this. There was no way in hell he was letting this moment pass him by.

A thud sounded above them and both men froze.

_Fuck._

"Adam," they breathed simultaneously, faces flushed, chests heaving up and down. Slowly, Crowley rolled off of Ezra, his wide eyes gazing up at the ceiling, wishing they were still looking down on his beloved's face.

"Why don't I go make us some breakfast?" Ezra asked as he sat up. Crowley glanced over at the man, vexed to see he'd only managed to undo two buttons of the man's stupid tartan patterend pajamas.

"Maybe, if we don't say a single word, he'll go back to sleep."

Ezra laughed, making his way around the bed. Slowly, he leaned in to give Crowley a chaste peck on the lips. "You and I both know that will never happen," he teased. Then, with a twinkle of something mischievous in his eye, Ezra turned to whisper in his ear.

"We can continue this later, if you'd like."

In a flash, the man was gone and Crowley was left to wearily pull himself together before heading out into the kitchen to join his family for breakfast.

They had decided to take the path towards the creek again, but cross the bridge and keep going this time. Adam had wanted to explore an unknown part of the forest and, although the line between their property and the next house's wasn't clearly defined, Ezra assumed Newton and Anathema wouldn't mind if they wandered about for a while. They would probably be delighted to run into Ezra and the Crowleys and would likely invite them over for a bite to eat if given the chance.

Adam took the lead for a while, racing ahead to look under all the rocks and logs for signs of salamanders and other critters to observe. Ezra fell into step beside Anthony, simply enjoying the crisp cool morning air. Fall was just around the corner and the man couldn't be more excited.

"Hang on a minute, Adam," Anthony's voice rang out through the forest. Ezra felt his stomach clench nervously. His hands found their way to each other as they always did, and his eyes drifted toward the red haired man's face.

So, now was the time.

"Yeah Dad?" The boy asked, skipping over to where they had stopped. The trio were standing on the small wooden bridge that crossed over the creek. Ezra watched as Anthony moved to lean up against one of the hand rails, looking off at the water below. Adam moved to stand next to him, his eyes exactly level with the wide wooden beam that ran parallel to the ground. He couldn't see a single thing.

Silently, Ezra reached down to pick the boy up. He was small for his age, and scrawny, but the man knew from experience that the boy would start to grow heavy very fast. He prepared himself for the inevitable.

"Adam," his father began and Ezra glanced at Anthony with a soft smile of support. "Mr. Fell and I need to talk to you about something important."

The boy's face fell instantly. "Am I in trouble?" he asked, a quiet shake to his voice. Ezra squeeze him tighter, heart breaking that Adam would immediately assume they were upset with him.

"No, dear boy," Ezra assured. "You've done nothing wrong."

Adam turned to look at his father, hazel eyes brimming with confusion. Anthony sighed, and raised a hand to his eyes, rubbing away the pain that must have gathered there from his entire morning filled with worry.

"Adam," Anthony began again, turning to face his son and Ezra. "You know that Mr. Fell and I love each other, right?"

The boy nodded, a small smile appearing on his face. "You're his prince, right Dad?"

This brought forth a hesitant smile from Anthony. Ezra's heart soared at the imagery of the two of them, dressed as regal princes, riding off into the sunset. A ridiculous notion, but beautiful nonetheless.

"Yes," the man continued, "I am, Adam. But we need to keep that a secret, ok?"

Adam frowned. "Why?" His voice sounded so sad, it made Ezra want to cry.

Another sigh escaped Anthony's lips. Ezra couldn't imagine how difficult this must be. He had tried to help think of ways to explain this to Adam and every which way the pair spun the news, it _hurt. _Why couldn't the world just leave them be? They weren't hurting anyone. Hell, they weren't even hurting each other? So why were people convinced a love like this was so wrong?

"Do you remember what we talked about after that day at the zoo?" Anthony asked quietly, his eyes never leaving his son's face. The boy nodded slowly, hands clutching onto Ezra's neck a bit tighter. The blonde haired man wondered what Adam was thinking right now. Was he picturing those men who had attacked Ezra again? Was he imagining either one of them broken and bruised on the floor? Ezra gently lifted a hand and began to run his fingers through Adam's hair, hoping the motion would comfort him.

"The way things are now, Adam," Anthony explained, marching onward without a second thought. "It is against the rules for Mr. Fell and I to love each other. If someone were to find out, we could both end up in jail or one of us could get hurt. That's why it's so important that you never tell anyone about us, alright? You can't tell anyone we love each other, or that we hold hands or kiss or sleep in the same room. You can't even tell people that Mr. Fell lives with us. Do you understand?"

Another nod. Adam's eyes glistened with tears. Anthony reached out and took the boy into his arms, holding onto him like he never wanted to let go. "I'm so sorry, Adam," he whispered fiercely. Ezra felt his throat begin to constrict with emotion. "I hope and pray that someday things will change, but right now, this has to be kept a secret, ok? You can't tell anyone. Not your mom, or Eustace, or any of the kids at school. Do you promise me?"

"I promise," the boy cried. Upon realizing that Adam was shedding actual tears, Ezra felt waterworks of his own begin to fall. He reached out a hand and laid it against Adam's back, rubbing smooth, even circles to try and calm the boy down.

"Do you want to talk about what's making you so sad, Adam?" Ezra asked softly, taking a step closer to father and son. From far away, it would look like the three were practically hugging, except that Anthony had both of his arms occupied supporting Adam.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Mr. Fell," the boy sobbed, burying his head into his father's neck. The way he was holding himself now reminded Ezra of how Adam had reacted when he'd first been dropped off at the bookshop. He was quickly becoming hysterical.

"I don't want anyone to come and take you away. I want you to stay here and be my other dad."

Both Ezra and Anthony froze at this admission, turning to look each other in the eyes. Ezra had already started crying a while ago, the softie that he was, but with this new bit of information, Anthony's amber eyes also started to overflow. He hugged his son tightly against his chest, breathing deeply in and out to try and calm himself down.

Ezra, on the other hand, was a wreck. Adam wanted him to stay. Adam wanted him to be his _Dad_. He looked over at Anthony, not a clue what to say. Was the man happy about the news? Upset? Did he think Ezra was trying to move in on his territory? Did he want Ezra to take up more of a parenting role in Adam's life? Would he prefer the man to take a step back instead? Ezra didn't know what to think, so he waited, barely able to breathe.

"Oh, Adam," Anthony sighed and the boy leaned back to look at his father. Noticing the tears, he turned to Ezra, his face flashing with guilt upon seeing them both.

"Was that supposed to be a secret too?" he asked meekly, eyes glancing down at the ground. Ezra's heart went out to the boy.

"No!" Anthony insisted, repositioning Adam so the boy was forced to look at him. "Adam, there don't have to be any secrets between you and me and Mr. Fell. We're a family, ok? You can always tell us anything, understand?" The boy nodded, still sniffling, but at least his crying had stopped for now.

"Adam," the man continued, another tear trickling down his face. He was smiling now - beaming from ear to ear and Ezra felt relief wash over him. "My wonderful boy. It makes me so happy that you want Mr. Fell to stay in your life and be your dad. I would love that very much, but it's against the rules, right now."

"He can still stay," the man pressed on before Adam could start crying again. "He can still live with us. You two can spend as much time together as you want. You can even think about him as another dad, if you want to. You just can't call him that, out loud, ok?" He cradled the boy's head gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Just because it's a secret, doesn't mean it's not real."

Adam wrapped his arms around his father's neck and gave Anthony a tight squeeze. Ezra's heart warmed at the sight of it, and at the thought that Adam wanted him here. He wanted Ezra in his life. For as long as he could remember, Ezra had known he would never be a father. Like so many other things, parenthood had never been in the cards for him. Adam had been the closest thing he'd had, and the way their relationship had been before today had been enough for him, or so he thought. Now? His heart was bursting with love for both the Crowley men standing before him. This was everything he'd ever wanted.

"I love you both so much," Ezra whispered as he leaned in to give each one a soft kiss on the cheek. Adam reached out his arms and pulled Ezra closer so that all three of them actually were hugging now. Anthony beamed, Ezra laughed, and together, they made their way across the bridge and into the unknown part of the forest.


	24. An Unexpected Visitor

Half an hour into their hike, the trio ran into Anathema. They had rounded a bend along the trail, surrounded by tall pine trees on either side and there she was, sitting on a stump just to the side of their path, looking up at the branches overhead.

"Anathema!" Crowley heard Ezra exclaim in surprise. The woman turned her head towards them and smiled. For some reason, Crowley got the feeling that she had been waiting for them there. "It's wonderful to see you, my dear! How are you and Newton doing?"

The woman fixed her wide brown eyes on Ezra. "Just fine, Ezra. I'm happy to see the three of you back in our neck of the woods. I was starting to get lonely." She turned toward Adam, who was currently standing just in front of Anthony, looking up at her with a curious expression.

"Newton's feeling a bit under the weather." Her words were directed specifically at Adam, which Crowley found to be a bit odd, since he hadn't said anything to her yet. "That's why he's not out here with me."

The man watched his son's eyes go wide. "How did you know I was going to ask that?"

To his surprise, Crowley heard Ezra chuckle at this. He looked over at the blonde man. Ezra's face was relaxed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. If Crowley didn't know any better, he would have guessed his angel knew something about the situation that he didn't.

"Oh," Ezra sighed, winking at Anathema. He actually _winked. _Crowley was instantly suspicious. Ezra didn't wink. Ezra didn't have secrets with other people. "I'd imagine she just had a _feeling_, Adam."

Crowley huffed as the woman simply shrugged. Gracefully, she extended her elbow to Ezra who took it gleefully. "Shall we continue on?" she asked, laughing as Adam raced forward to take the lead, leaving Crowley to bring up the rear of their group.

They plodded along for a few more minutes, Crowley listening in on the conversation in front of him. Ezra and Anathema were currently in a very heated discussion about Shakespeare and the nature of his influence in modern literature, which Crowley did not care for nor have much to offer to the conversation. Instead, he turned his attention to the forest around them, eyes drifting back and forth from one tree to the next.

Movement in the distance caught Crowley's attention. His eyes drifted upward and there at the top of the hill was a doe and her fawn. Immediately, the man halted in his tracks, reaching out a hand to grab onto the back of Anathema's sleeve, pulling both her and Ezra to a stop too.

Hearing the footsteps behind him cease so suddenly, Adam paused and turned around. His eyes immediately sought out his father's and Crowley raised his finger to his lips, then pointed straight ahead.

"How beautiful," Ezra breathed upon spotting the pair. Slowly, without making a sound, he squatted to the ground and held out his arm, beckoning Adam closer.

"See the doe up there with her baby?" he asked, voice barely carrying to where Crowley was still standing. He didn't dare move, for fear he would fumble and chase the beautiful creatures away. "You see all the little white spots on the baby's fur?" Adam nodded silently, his eyes wide with wonder. "They look like that to better blend in with the sunlight as it comes through the trees. To hide from predators."

Adam looked around for a moment, before pointing at a different spot in the forest. "You mean like the sunlight over there, Mr. Fell?" Crowley turned his head and sure enough, a few dozen feet away sat patch of dappled sunlight against the earthy underbrush. The man shook his head in amazement. This boy picked up information amazingly fast.

"Why do the deer have white tails?" Adam asked quietly as all four sets of eyes watched the mother deer lean down and take a bite off a fern leaf by her front hoof.

Anathema leaned in to answer this one. "They use their tails to communicate with each other," she explained. "When a deer is frightened, they will raise the tail up so other deer can see it."

Crowley watched as Ezra nodded his head. "They can also use it to evade predators. If a deer is being hunted, it will run away with the white part of the tail showing. The wolf or cougar or whatever happens to be hunting it will focus their attention on the bit of white and then if the deer makes a sharp turn, and the white suddenly isn't there, the predator gets confused and the deer can escape."

Was everyone here but him a deer expert? Crowley sighed. It seemed that whenever these teachable moments came up, it was always Ezra who held the knowledge to answer the boy's flood of questions. Crowley loved his angel's intelligence and breadth of knowledge. He loved that Ezra wanted to share that knowledge with Adam, but sometimes, the man wished he had something he could teach Adam too.

Quietly, they watched as the two creatures wandered off into the forest. When they were out of sight, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. It was ridiculous to imagine they'd all been holding their breath to try and avoid scaring the deer, but the evidence appeared to suggest otherwise.

"Shall we start heading back?" Ezra asked them all quietly. "Anathema, dear, you're welcome over at our place for lunch if you'd like. But if you'd rather go home and check on Newton, we'd completely understand."

Her eyes clouded in confusion for the briefest of seconds, but it was long enough for Crowley to notice. What was going on here? What was this girl hiding?

"That's alright, Ezra," she response, arm still linked with his. "I'm sure he's still fast asleep and wouldn't miss me at all. I'd love to accompany you all home for lunch."

She was lying. Not about the lunch bit, but about Newton. Crowley had been around people enough to have a pretty good sense to tell when they were lying. He wasn't always right, and he supposed in this instance, it really didn't matter if Anathema was telling a lie about her fiance's health or whereabouts. Ultimately, Crowley trusted her. He was sure, eventually, she would tell them what the hell was going on.

Or, she wouldn't. He found that he didn't particularly care.

The four of them hiked back through the woods, following the same path they'd used to get there. Crowley had switched places with Ezra and Anathema and now had the important duty to make sure Adam didn't wander off too far. The boy was still racing ahead, looking for signs of any critters he could observe. Crowley smiled at the sight.

"Adam," he called as they crossed over the wooden bridge. The boy immediately ran to his side. Crowley smiled at his son, then reached down and hoisted him up and over his shoulders so the boy was sitting with one leg on either side of his neck. Adam cheered in delight, then placed his hands firmly on the top of Crowley's head to secure himself. Crowley wrapped his arms around the boy's legs as a support. "See if you can spot any neat birds up in those trees."

He felt the boy lean back and look up, turning his head from side to side. Crowley fixed his eyes forward, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. It wouldn't do for him to trip now. He'd send both Adam and himself tumbling to their doom.

"There's one!" the boy shouted, pointing somewhere off to his left. Crowley caught a flash of orange before the bird took off, startled by their sudden proximity.

"Do you know what kind of bird that was?" Crowley asked, pleased to find that he actually knew the answer to this question. Maybe there _was _something he could teach Adam.

"A robin!" the boy explained, and Crowley's heart sank. Had Ezra beaten him to that too?

"Great job," he remembered to praise the boy, realizing it wasn't Adam's fault that Crowley didn't know enough about the world to pass anything on to his son. "How did you know that?"

He chanced a glance back at Ezra. The angel was still deep in conversation with their neighbor, but at this distance, Crowley had a hard time hearing what they were discussing. Perhaps he should slow down a bit. He had long legs, after all, and since the other two had been walking behind him, Crowley must have sped up his pace accidentally.

"Mr. Fell has a book about birds in his shop," Adam explained. "He let me read it when I was visiting."

Of course he did. Anthony smiled despite the disappointment welling up in his chest. At least Adam had someone in his life who was teaching him things. In the end, it probably didn't matter all that much who imparted the information, so long as _someone_ cared enough to do it. And Ezra cared. Crowley knew just how very much Ezra cared.

They emerged from the forest a few minutes later, Adam still riding on Crowley's shoulders. He was starting to get a bit stiff with the boy's weight, but the cottage was just now coming into sight. Surely Crowley could last long enough to make it back home.

_Home._ The man smiled. He'd never before understood what a wonderful word that could be.

"Dad?" Adam asked curiously from his perch. "Whose car is that?"

Crowley looked up. From this position, it was difficult to see what Adam was talking about, but after a few more steps, the black Chrysler came into view. He froze.

"What's the matter, dear?" Ezra asked as he and Anathema approached them. Crowley turned around, wide eyed, and shook his head almost imperceptibly, hoping the blonde haired man would get the message. He then turned to Anathema, who smiled sadly at him and watched as she squeezed Ezra's arm a little tighter.

Crowley may have been a bit perturbed when they'd run into their neighbor earlier that morning. He thanked the heavens she was here now.

The car currently sitting in their drive was a company car, sent from the London branch of Crowley's bank where he worked. The man currently leaning up against the car, hands folded across his chest, was none other than Samuel Lloyd, one of the owners. He was looking directly at them.

Crowley didn't want to think about what might have happened if only the three of them had walked up over that hill to find Mr. Lloyd waiting for them. Two grown men walking side by side with a child running in front would have sent the entirely wrong impression to the entirely _wrong_ man. They would have been found out for sure.

With Anathema there, her arm linked through Ezra's a warm smile on her face as she looked over at him, Crowley no longer had to worry about protecting himself or Ezra. He could face the man without fear. What was the worst he could do? Fire Crowley? The red haired man already intended to never go back. This just saved him a trip into London.

"Crowley, so good to see you!" Mr. Lloyd exclaimed as Crowley approached. Gently he knelt down and Adam scooted off his shoulders, choosing to remain behind his father as the man stood up to address their guest.

"Mr. Lloyd," Crowley began, ears straining to hear as Ezra and Anathema approached. They stopped behind him as well, a bit off to his left. From the very outer edges of his vision, he could see that Anathema had not left his angel's side. He hoped that meant she was aware of what was at stake here.

He would have to remember to thank her later.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Whatever the purpose of this man's visit, Crowley was convinced it would be no pleasure. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't be polite - set a good example for Adam.

The thought caused a small smile to slide its way onto the man's face. Maybe he could teach Adam something after all.

"Ah," the man huffed, his rather bushy mustache flaring outward as he talked. "I'm afraid I'm here for business, Crowley, not pleasure."

A nod. He had expected as much. "If this is about my lack of attendance at the office recently, I believe Mr. Barnetts should have received a notice from the hospital about my condition." The notice had, thankfully, left out the bit about attempted suicide, not that it mattered. Crowley was not intending to go back to work. He didn't enjoy the job, he didn't need the money, and he was never going back to London. This was his home now. If he wanted to work, he would find something here, not back in that hellhole of a city.

"Oh," the man seemed surprised. "No, I'm not here on business from the bank. As far as we're concerned, you may take as much time off as you'd like. For a man who's never missed a day in over five years, I daresay you've earned it."

Crowley felt his stomach begin to twist nervously. If the man wasn't here about his job, why would he have come all this way? He'd said he was here for business, which was never code for anything good. Why else would he have reason to be here?

"I'm here about the boy," Mr. Lloyd said, a hint of gravity to his voice. He didn't appear entirely pleased to be sharing this bit of information. "To collect him and take him home. Lilith sent me."

Anger and fear welled up inside him. Crowley gritted his teeth and placed a hand protectively on Adam's head. The boy ducked behind his father's leg, as if hiding well enough would prevent him from having to leave.

"You can't just waltz in here and take my son away from me," Crowley protested, practically hissing at the man. "I am his father. I have every right to keep him here with me if I believe that's what's best for him."

The other gentleman sighed and pulled a slip of parchment from his coat pocket, handing it to Crowley. The red haired man took it and unfolded it slowly, heart beating rapidly in anticipation.

"What is this?" Crowley demanded as he read the top line of the page. It was a notice addressed to him by one of the courts in London.

"It's a summons," Mr. Lloyd explained, his face falling. If Crowley didn't know any better, he would have said the man looked upset about having to deliver the news. "For a trial over custody for Adam. You can see the date you are to appear in court in the second paragraph, _there._" He gestured with one of his hands. Crowley seethed. "I'm to take the boy back to London so he can begin school next week. He will remain there with his mother until a verdict is decided."

They couldn't do this. There was no way this was legal. Sure, a trial to decide Adam's fate, that was all well and good, but they couldn't take Adam away from him until a decision had been reached, could they? They couldn't force the boy to go back to London unless a judge deemed it in Adam's "best interests" to return to his mother. That sort of decision wouldn't be made until later next month, according to this sheet of paper, so why was this man insisting on taking his son away?

Crowley was spiraling into a panic. He didn't know what to do. If he refused, would the courts take Adam away anyway? Would they prevent Crowley from seeing his son? Would he automatically lose custody without a fair trial? He couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk losing Adam in the long term, but if he let the boy go now, who knows what kind of damage could be done? The boy was terrified of going back to London. Even now, Crowley could feel him clinging onto the man's leg, face buried in Crowley's pants. Adam didn't want to go back. He wanted to stay here. They couldn't make him go.

"You can't force Adam to go with you," Anathema spoke up from her position beside Ezra. Crowley chanced a glance over at the pair, relieved to see that although his angel was getting emotional, the man hadn't openly wept over the news. They didn't need to give Mr. Lloyd any reason to suspect anything was amiss here. "By law, when custody of a child is in question, the default caretaker is always the father. Mrs. Crowley can appeal to the courts to have them consider her for primary custody, but until that is decided, Adam cannot be legally removed from his father's care."

Mr. Lloyd turned his attention on the woman, his eyebrows rising in surprise, and, was that approval? Crowley held his breath, afraid to find out what would happen next.

"My," the man murmured, likely to himself, even though Crowley could still hear. "Aren't you a fine thing?" He smiled at Anathema. She smiled back. It was sickly sweet and Crowley knew by just looking at her that it was a universal sign for 'get away from me or I'll rip your head off'.

"She's taken," Ezra huffed and Crowley could have kissed the man if circumstances would have allowed for it. What an impossibly perfect thing to say in that moment. Of course, Ezra had only been looking out for the 'bedridden' Newton, but Mr. Lloyd wouldn't know that. By the flustered look on his face, Crowley knew exactly what the man thought he knew.

"My apologies, sir," he stammered, addressing Ezra for the first time. For once, his angel didn't have an interest in correcting the man on his assumption. "I am very impressed, Ma'am. You seem to be well versed in family law."

"My father is a lawyer." That was the only explanation she offered him. It was more than he deserved.

He turned back to Crowley with an apologetic smile, as if he had simply been an unwilling participant in this entire encounter. "Your friend is correct, of course. I tried to explain to Lilith, but she's a stubborn one, as you probably know."

Crowley glowered. Did he ever.

"Well," he continued with the sudden aura of a bird cornered in an alley that desperately wanted to fly away. "I passed along what I promised to. No need for me to bother you any longer." He moved to get back into the driver's seat of his car, pausing to look back at Crowley, then down at Adam, then back at Crowley.

"Best of luck, Crowley," he stated, tipping his hat in Anathema's direction. "I really do hope you win this one."

As they watched the man drive away, tires crunching on gravel, Crowley stooped down to pick Adam up. The boy wrapped his arms and legs around his father, holding on for dear life. Smiling softly, he pressed a kiss to the top of his son's head.

"I hope you weren't lying about your father, Anathema," he began, using her name for the first time. "Because, I think we may need his help on this one."


	25. Mr Device

Mr. Device was due to arrive at Anathema's house for dinner. She had called him from Crowley's house the moment the black Chrysler had disappeared from sight, not wanting to waste a moment of their time. As soon as they had stepped into the house, Ezra had scooped up Adam and held him tightly, assuring the boy that things were going to be just fine.

Crowley took a step toward Ezra. Locking eyes with his angel, he pulled both of them into his arms, lowering his head so that his cheek lay comfortably on the top of Adam's head. He held them close for what seemed like an eternity as they waited to hear what Anathema would say. Crowley tried his best not to worry, but he couldn't help himself. He knew next to nothing about custody laws. What were the chances that the courts would find him incapable of providing care for Adam? What sorts of things would Lilith try to use against him? Would she bring his nightmares into the battle? What about his suicide attempt? Or his desire to move away from London?

What if she somehow found out about Ezra? If that happened, it was all over. Both Ezra and Crowley would be taken away and Adam would have no choice but to go live with his mother. The thought of it was too much. Crowley couldn't lose them both, he just couldn't.

"So," the woman began, "I've got good news and bad news."

Of course she did. Crowley sighed, trying to ignore the fear mounting inside of him. Her father had agreed to help, right? Anathema had said he was one of the best in the business and, despite only knowing her for a little while, Crowley trusted her. If she said Mr. Device was the best, Crowley wanted the man on their side. Money was no obstacle. The man would give away his entire inheritance just to keep Ezra and Adam safe in their small country home.

"Give us the bad news first," he grumbled, steeling himself for the worst. Mr. Device wasn't able to help. The trial was a lost cause. Lilith had already hired him to represent her. So many things could go wrong. There were so many ways Crowley could lose the things he loved most in the world.

Ignoring him, Anathema continued. "The good news is: my father agreed to take the case. He'll be arriving at my house tonight for dinner to begin discussions."

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief, then paused. If that was the good news, what in the world could the bad news be?

"And the bad?" he heard Ezra ask from behind him. Crowley could hear the shakiness in his voice, revealing the blonde man's fear. Gently, Crowley moved his arm to the back of Ezra's neck, rubbing softly at the base of his hair.

Anathema's face looked more serious than Crowley had ever seen it before. His stomach fell all the way to the floor.

"You can't be anywhere near this case, Ezra," she began, brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. Crowley realized in that moment that he had never seen the woman cry. This was probably as close as she had ever gotten in his presence.

"My father is not the most understanding of men," she continued, shifting her eyes back and forth between the pair. "He has his ideas of the way the world should work, and doesn't particularly like people that don't fit into those ideas." She paused, taking a deep breath, the shame visible on her face. "Knowing him, he would drop the case in an instant if he got word that anything was going on between the two of you. And if anyone working for Lilith found out, it would be the end for both of you. These sorts of cases tend to drag secrets out into the light. If you want any hope of Adam staying with you, Ezra can't be found out."

Crowley gritted his teeth. He knew she was right, but it just wasn't fair! What he and Ezra had was special. It was _good_. The fact that people could use their relationship to take away Crowley's son from him was appalling.

"It's alright, dear," Ezra murmured softly, sensing Crowley's discomfort. "She's right."

Neither one of them stopped to wonder how Anathema had figured them out. Crowley chalked it up to her being one of those _special_ people. A psychic or a witch or something of that nature. How else would she possibly know so much? How else could she always seem to be in the right place at the right time?

Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. Crowley trusted Anathema to keep his family safe. She had more than proven herself. He would trust her this time too.

Seeing his resignation, Ezra leaned in to press his forehead against Crowley's. His blue eyes fluttered shut for a moment and all the red haired man wanted to do was kiss him and never stop. But he couldn't. They had so much to do. And only a few weeks to do it.

Eventually, Ezra pulled away, passing Adam over to his father. The boy's brow was furrowed, but he was not crying.

"Don't worry, kid," Crowley murmured as he felt the familiar weight in his arms. "Me and Anathema and her dad are going to figure this out and then you'll be stuck with me for good." This brought a smile to the boy's face. He hugged onto Crowley tighter and the man's heart began to soar. If someone had asked him just a few months ago what Crowley would give up to keep his son in his life, the man wouldn't have known what to say. Now, he knew there was only one appropriate answer: everything.

He loved this child so much. More than anything else in his life. Even more than Ezra. It was a different kind of love, but it was a perfect one. Adam meant everything to Crowley and he was going to do whatever he had to in order to make this place Adam's home - for good.

"I'll head back to the bookshop," Ezra began, already looking around for things he would have to take with him. There was no way to tell if Lilith would stop by unexpectedly again before the trial or if she would send someone in her place. If there was even a trace of Ezra in the cottage, the whole case could be lost. As much as the thought hurt Crowley, his angel had to make himself scarce for a few weeks.

"You both could come visit on the weekend, of course," the man was rambling now. "Or perhaps to or from school. Devonshire is a bit of a drive from my place, of course, but perhaps sometime next week you both could visit and we could have dinner together. You can tell me all about what you're learning and all the new friends you're making, and - "

"Angel," Crowley put a hand on the man's shoulder in an effort to calm him. "We're going to be fine. You head back to Soho and Adam and I will most definitely come and visit." He paused, aware of Anathema's disapproving look. "Not too much, of course. The appropriate amount of visits for two friendly individuals. Lilith has lunch with her friends twice a week." The red haired man smiled. "I think we could make that work. You can even pick the days."

Ezra beamed, tears leaking from his eyes. He didn't want to leave any more than Crowley wanted him to, but they had to do what was best for Adam. In a few weeks, this would all be over and they could be a family again.

"Newton can drive you back, Ezra," Anathema said after a while. "I'll send him over in a few hours, once you've had a chance to pack."

Crowley frowned, looking over at the woman. "I thought you said he was ill."

There was no change to the expression on her face. "I lied." She admitted the fact so easily, then elaborated on none of it.

The man's eyes narrowed. He knew it! He knew Anathema had been lying about Newton's health.

"You knew you'd be needed here," Ezra started, his blue eyes wide with awe. Crowley looked at his angel, not understanding the man's revelation. "You knew that someone was going to be here today and that Anthony and I alone would look suspicious."

Anathema shook her head. "I knew that I should go on a walk alone - that I would help someone I cared about if I did," she corrected. "I assumed the feeling meant the three of you. I don't really associate with many people outside of Newton. He stayed home because I asked him to."

Insanity. This was absolute insanity, but Crowley wasn't going to point that out. If this woman's intuition was so spot on that it continued to help them time and time again, who was he to question it?

Crowley watched as the woman stepped forward. She placed a gentle kiss on Ezra's cheek, squeezing his arm as she stopped in front of him.

"It's going to be alright. I have a good feeling about this."

Without another word, she walked out the door. This time, it was impossible for Crowley to tell whether or not she was telling the truth.

* * *

Later that evening, the four of them sat around the dinner table, helping themselves to some shepherd's pie. It was a different four this time - Anathema was there, along with Crowley, Adam and Anathema's father. He'd arrived less than an hour ago and was already digging deep into the case, asking Crowley every question he could think of about their lives in London and about Adam.

As unpleasant as some of the questions were to answer, Crowley did his best to give only full, honest answers. He had never been part of a court proceeding before, but Anathema had warned him how events like these tended to drag forward details the individuals involved would much rather keep hidden.

"Well, Mr. Crowley," Mr. Device said after what had turned into an hour and a half long conversation. "I think you have a decent chance at winning this case. You're a gentleman of high public standing, your financial position is impeccable, and the boy clearly adores you." He looked down at Adam, snuggled into Crowley's lap, and smiled.

Adam hadn't left his father's side all night. Even when dinner had ended and they'd retired into the sitting room, Adam had stayed. Anathema had offered to go outside and play with him until it got dark, but the boy had wanted to be right by his father's side. He said nothing, simply choosing to listen to the conversation with wide hazel eyes. Crowley had been worried that the boy would start crying over Ezra's departure, but Adam held his own quite well. The man was impressed.

Mr. Device took a breath, a sudden serious look on his face and Crowley felt his heart skip a beat. _Please, don't ask anything about Ezra. Please don't ask anything about him._ Crowley was not dealing well with being separated from his angel, although he held himself together quite well. The key was to keep reminding himself that this separation was only temporary. They would be reunited again in a few weeks when everything had been settled once and for all.

"Is there any detail from your life that you can think of that your wife might use in court against you, Mr. Crowley?" The man asked, and Crowley relaxed a little. Mr. Device was still going through his routine questions. There was nothing he needed to be worried about.

Crowley cleared his throat, trying to keep his thoughts away from Ezra and focused on the matter at hand. There was one thing, apart from his angel, that Lilith could use to try and prove Crowley unfit to be a father. Time to focus his thoughts on his attempted suicide, and away from the love of his life.

Wow, how the tables had turned.

"There might be," Crowley began, partly wishing Adam had decided to go outside and play. This would be much easier to talk about without his son in the same room. Taking a deep breath, the man held Adam closer to his chest and continued speaking. "I was in a pretty dark place a few weeks ago. I've been in a bad way for a while now, ever since the war, but it got particularly bad when I returned to London after spending some time out here."

To his credit, Mr. Device listened intently, never once doing or saying anything to belittle Crowley in any way. The red haired man described his experience leading up to his hospitalization, leaving out the small detail of the letters he wrote. They were ashes in the ground now anyway. No need to call attention to words that no longer existed.

"Lilith may try to use my suicide attempt to prove that I'm not mentally or emotionally stable enough to be Adam's primary guardian," Crowley said as he finished the story. Adam was clinging to his shirt tightly, face buried in his father's chest. The man hoped his son wasn't thinking back to all those bad memories, but he had a sinking suspicion that it would be impossible for the boy not to. Not for the first time today, Crowley wished all of this would just go away so he and Adam and Ezra could live their lives in peace.

"I had to take a psychological evaluation at the hospital before they released me," Crowley admitted as a follow up. "I'll call them and let them know they are permitted to release a copy to you, if you think that will help."

The man nodded, running a hand through his greying beard. "Yes. I'd like to take a look at the doctors notes as well. If there's something in there that mentions the depression manifested itself after you returned to London, we may be able to use that to our advantage. I'd hate for you to be given custody of Adam and then be forced to move back into the city as an amendment to your wife's visitation rights. Won't do either of you any good unless you can stay out here in the country."

Crowley sighed in relief. This man really did think of everything. He glanced over at Anathema who was sitting at the kitchen table, silently reading a book. She looked up at him as if she could feel his gaze and offered the man a wink.

"We've got a strong case here, Mr. Crowley," the man pointed out again. "The way these things usually work - the father is given priority, especially if the custody battle is accompanied by a divorce." He stopped, then examined the red haired man closer, glancing down at his notes. "You are filing for divorce, aren't you?"

The color drained from Crowley's face. To be honest, he hadn't thought about the prospect at all. Did he want to divorce Lilith? Crowley didn't particularly enjoy being married to her. If the act of divorce was as simple as snapping a finger, he might have done it already, but it required so much paperwork. The man hated paperwork, and there was really no incentive for him to divorce her. It wasn't like he had anyone else lined up that wanted to marry him after the fact. No one that the country would recognize, anyway.

Before that particular thought could be allowed to linger, Crowley slammed it back down into the depths of his subconscious - to be dealt with in another place at another time where that very thought itself wouldn't jeopardize everything he was trying to accomplish.

"I will be honest with you, sir," Crowley began. "I hadn't considered it. I'm not opposed to the idea," he pressed, seeing the look on the other man's face. "It just seemed like a lot of paperwork, and I'm not really the ambitious type."

Mr. Device nodded. "Very well. I can draw up a draft version for you to look over. You have a strong case without the divorce, but things will be much better off for you down the road if we take care of this now. No chance of her attempting a second go 'round, if you know what I mean?"

Crowley simply nodded. He would do practically anything this man told him he needed to do to keep his son with him. Gently, he pulled the boy closer to him in a soft hug, smiling when he noticed Adam had fallen asleep.

"The way these things work - you, as the father, have priority for custody over your son. If your wife shows up with no evidence against you and you have none against her, the courts will side with you every time." He looked down at his notes and chuckled. "From what you've told me, she is a flaky, unemployed housewife that is away more than she is present at home. Not necessarily the best environment to raise a child. In my opinion, Adam would do much better out here. I am confident the court will see it that way too, even with the inclusion of your suicide attempt."

He moved to stand up and Crowley reached out to shake the man's hand. Mr. Device looked down at the boy in Crowley's lap and smiled.

"He reminds me of Ana when she was a little girl," Mr. Device murmured softly, then turned his attention back to Crowley. "I'll need about a week to gather whatever information I can to present to the judge and draw up the paperwork. I'll send it your way when I've finished for you to review, along with a statement of your bill."

"Dad," Anathema interrupted harshley, her brown eyes narrowing as her father turned in her direction. "We talked about this."

He sighed, audibly. "Right," he turned back to Crowley and smiled. It did not appear very genuine. "This one is on the house, supposedly."

Crowley immediately shook his head. He understood what Anathema was trying to do, but from his experience, men like her father produced better results the more motivated they were. "Nonsense. Money is not an obstacle for me, Mr. Device, unless you botch my divorce papers." The man laughed and Crowley was happy to hear it was a genuine one. Adam shifted in his sleep at the noise.

"Seriously," the red haired man continued, voice much softer than before. "Mr. Device, if you can get me out of this nightmare, I will give you anything you want."

"I swear it."


	26. Light at the End of the Tunnel

Ezra did not return to the bookshop in Soho, at least, not right away. He had Newton drop him off in Hyde Park instead, claiming he needed to meet up with an old friend first before returning to his flat.

"I can tell you're lying, Ezra," Newton huffed as he pulled the car over to the side of the street nearest to the park. Ezra blushed, wringing his hands together. He remained on the inside of the car for a moment, debating what to do next. Newton knew he was lying, of course he knew Ezra was lying. The man was terrible at it.

Did that change anything? Just because his friend knew he was lying about what he said he was doing didn't mean Newton knew the truth about what he was planning to do. Even if the man did suspect something, or if Anathema had experienced another one of her feelings, did it matter? Would Newton try and stop him? Talk him out of it? Force him to stay in the car?

"What gave it away?" Ezra asked, forcing a soft laugh. He felt like he was going to throw up. This whole situation with Adam and Anthony had him on edge. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed with Anthony - forget about everything else.

The man rolled his eyes. "Is 'everything' an option? You're just so obvious about it. The words coming out of your mouth sound different when you lie. You avoid looking directly at people. Even your mannerisms - that thing you do with your hands - screams 'look at me, I'm a fibby-fib fibber'. You're rotten at it."

Ezra sighed. The younger man was right. He was rubbish. Most of the time, Ezra would have considered that a positive trait about himself. He was proud that he didn't go about his day lying all the time. Recently, however...well, recently, being good at lying probably wasn't a bad thing. He would be a lot less nervous if he knew he'd be able to lie if the need were to arise.

"Yes, alright," the blonde man huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to the park. I'm...I'm stopping by to speak with Mrs. Crowley."

Newton's eyes went wide. Until that moment, Ezra hadn't been sure how much Anathema had told her fiance about the situation. Apparently, she had told him everything. Ezra braced himself for the worst.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" the man nearly shouted. Ezra was shocked. This was highly out of character for Newton. He was normally so laid back. "You want to go talk to the woman that is trying to take Adam away? Whatever for?"

Ezra bit the inside of his lip, not looking up at the other man. "I just want to try and understand her, Newton. She can't really want to be a mother to Adam. I want to see why it's so important for her to have control over her son. Maybe, if I understand, I can figure out what to do. Maybe I can - "

"Convince her?" the man asked incredulously, finishing Ezra's thought. The blonde man paused. Was Newton gifted like Anathema? How had he known what Ezra was going to say?

"Ezra," Newton sighed, reaching up to readjust his glasses, "as your friend, I am begging you not to step foot in that house. You have no idea how many terrible things could happen if you do."

The man finally looked up at Newton and smiled sadly. Placing his hand on the door handle, he took a deep breath. "And you have no idea how many wonderful things could happen for the same reason."

He stepped out of the car and walked across the street to the Crowley's London home. This was likely going to be a colossal mistake, but Ezra couldn't shake the feeling that there was some easier solution than dragging everyone to court and fighting it out in front of a bunch of strangers. The man had not interacted with Crowley's wife much, but based on what he knew about her, she was happier away from Adam and Anthony. Why else would she leave so often and never call them while she was gone?

Perhaps she was simply concerned about Adam's well being. He remembered the way her eyes glistened with tears the morning she'd dropped Adam off in his care. Her words rang in his ears as Ezra reached the front door and rang the bell.

I am not abandoning my son. I am entrusting him to someone that is better suited to care for him than I am.

Did Mrs. Crowley suddenly feel like she was capable of caring for Adam? Did she fear Anthony wasn't up to the task after his attempt to take his life? If the woman really only cared about what was best for her son, then maybe she could be made to see reason.

Yes, this could go horribly wrong, but he owed it to Anthony and to Adam to try.

The man was caught completely by surprise when Mrs. Crowley was the one who answered the door. She was dressed in a simple blue dress and a pair of black shoes. Her curly hair was down and hung in a wild mane around her face, reminding him very much of Adam. Upon recognizing him, the woman paused, her face unreadable. She made no move to let him in, but Mrs. Crowley also didn't send him away. The woman simply stood and watched him, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Good evening, Mrs. Crowley," Ezra began politely, her name leaving a burning sensation on his tongue. The man took a deep breath to steady himself. No use getting worked up now. "Do you have a minute? I was hoping to have a word."

She said nothing for an uncomfortably long time before finally standing to the side and allowing him inside. Ezra climbed the final step quickly and followed her into the sitting room, looking around awkwardly, unsure of what he should do.

"Please, Mr. Fell," the woman began, her voice soft, but commanding. "Sit down."

He did as she told him, hands clutching at his knees, praying that he didn't come across as nervous as he felt.

The woman did not offer him a drink or food of any kind. She simply walked into the room and took a seat on the chair opposite him, crossing her legs and fixing her brown eyes on his face. The woman looked elegant, even though Ezra had never seen her dressed in such a relaxed manner before. She was strikingly beautiful. No wonder Anthony had been infatuated with her.

"You're here to talk about Adam." And insightful too. Ezra licked his lips nervously. He was in over his head here. The way she was looking at him right now made him feel like all his secrets were on full display.

"Yes," Ezra responded, not bothering to ask her how she'd known. The man found he'd rather not know all the details. "I'm also here to talk about you. To ask you a question."

Her eyebrows raised slightly, more curious than anything else. Ezra's hand clenched into a fist as he tried to get a handle on his nerves. This was not the proper time to panic. He was simply having a polite conversation with an acquaintance. Nothing to get worked up about.

Except for the fact that Mrs. Crowley terrified him. Except for the fact that she was trying to take away everything that he loved. Except that she continued to hurt Adam and Anthony over and over again with her indifference.

Ezra didn't hate people. He tried his best to see the goodness in everyone, even when it was buried several layers deep. Hatred never did anyone any good. It was much better to focus on other things. To live and let live.

Ezra hated Lilith Crowley.

"Ask away."

The man took a deep breath and looked up at her, trying to forget about all the things she had done. Running out on Anthony, forcing them back to London, abandoning Adam in his time of need, running away to another country for weeks. And now she was trying to take Adam away from his father for good. Why?

"You entrusted Adam to me once," he began, searching her face for any sign of sorrow or regret over what she was doing to Anthony and Adam. "You felt that at the time, I was better equipped to take care of him. Have your thoughts on the subject changed?"

She frowned. "I'm assuming Anthony called you about the court date to decide on custody?"

Ezra nodded. Anthony had called him. Right.

Mrs. Crowley sighed, bringing up a hand to her hair. Gently, she began to twirl one of her curls around her finger, eyes staring off into nothingness. Eventually, she looked up and met Ezra's gaze, something stirring in the depths of her eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Fell," she began, "ultimately, I want whatever is best for my son. And as strange as it may seem, I do not believe living with a suicidal father and his male lover is the best environment for a young, impressionable boy."

She knew.

Ezra felt his heart stop beating. How was that possible? How did she know about Anthony and Ezra? They had only admitted their feelings to each other a week ago, in the middle of nowhere. There would have been no way for her to see them and the man she'd sent to deliver the court summons hadn't suspected a thing thanks to Anathema. So how had she figured it out?

"I'm not - We're not - I -" the man spluttered, likely giving too much away. His face flushed red on its own accord, panic seizing him. They were finished. If Lilith Crowley knew how Ezra felt about her husband, it was all over. He and Anthony would be dragged away and sentenced to some undetermined amount of time in prison and they would never be allowed to see Adam again. "We've never - "

Her face softened, or was he imagining things. Was Mrs. Crowley looking at him with pity now, or was he grasping at straws, hoping for a miracle? "But you want to." Again, it wasn't a question.

Newton had been right. This had been a terrible mistake. Worse than Ezra could have imagined. Had she already gathered enough proof to use in court? Would she need to dig around more into their business to find the information she needed to take Adam away from them forever?

If he was the reason Adam was taken away from Anthony, Ezra would never forgive himself.

"You have no way of knowing that." He hoped the half truth in the statement would be enough to disguise his lie. She obviously had to have some way of knowing how he felt. But how? He couldn't ask her outright. That would be admitting to his feelings, which was enough of a confession to condemn him and Anthony both.

Her eyes softened and looked almost...sympathetic. Ezra didn't understand. She wasn't disgusted or angry. She wasn't throwing him out of her house or calling for the police. Mrs. Crowley looked almost sorry for him.

"It was written all over your face," she murmured, never looking away from his eyes, "that day I came to the bookshop. You looked as devastated then as I felt the day Anthony shipped off to war."

The woman's words touched Ezra in a way he hadn't been expecting. He felt tears pricking at his eyes and tried to force them away. She had known of his feelings for Anthony for weeks and hadn't turned them in? Why go through this whole court proceeding when she could easily get the both of them arrested and out of her way? He didn't understand.

"I realize I am not the best mother in the world," Mrs. Crowley admitted openly. "But I care about my son and I want what's best for him. I will also be the first to admit that I don't always know what that looks like, so I have decided to let someone else decide. I trust the courts to make the right decision for Adam's future, and I plan to follow whatever call they make, for or against me."

Ezra's jaw clenched. There had to be something he could do or say to change this woman's mind. There had to be something he could do to show her that Anthony was a wonderful father and that it was in Adam's best interest to stay with his father.

"Is it me?" he found himself asking. "Am I the reason behind all of this?" Her silence gave Ezra all the response he needed. The man's heart broke. What a fool he had been to believe this all could have worked out in the end.

He was startled out of his thoughts when her hand came to rest gently on his. Ezra looked up, embarrassed to find that he had started crying. Mrs. Crowley was looking at him with a sad smile on her face, the pity impossible to miss this time around.

"You have to understand, Mr. Fell," she began, squeezing his hand lightly before letting it go. "I hold nothing personally against you. I realize that you are a wonderful man. You are kind and generous and thoughtful. You can't help the fact that you're sick. I am touched by how much you care for my son, but I can't have him constantly being influenced by someone in your mental state. I have to think about what's best for Adam. Surely, you can understand that."

The pain of her words cut deeper than Ezra had thought possible. As much as the man wanted to break down and cry in that moment, he forced his emotions away. There was a light at the end of this dark, dark tunnel. He could see it now. There was still a chance for Adam and Anthony to be happy. He'd come here wanting to understand, and now he did. Maybe that would be enough.

"Would you reconsider?" Ezra asked, wiping away the tears as he looked back up at the woman's face. "Would you reconsider your bid for custody if I were gone? If I went somewhere far away? If I never saw Anthony or Adam again?"

He did not expect her to consider it, but the woman paused. Hope sparked in Ezra's chest. His heart pounded against his ribcage, waiting for her response.

"You could ensure that?" she sounded surprised.

There was no time to think about how Ezra's heart was disintegrating in his chest or how he was fairly certain he didn't know how to live without Anthony and Adam anymore. He would worry about all that later. In this moment, there was hope that father and son could stay together and Ezra found he would give up a million lifetimes of happiness to make sure that happened.

"I'll sell my bookshop," he vowed. "I'll move to France or Belgium or Italy. I won't even tell them that I'm leaving. I'll just vanish. They'll never hear from me again."

Silence fell between them for a long while as the woman sat and stared at him, her eyes unfocused. Was she really considering backing off? Would she give up her claim to Adam if Ezra really left?

Ezra sensed she needed another nudge. "Anthony is a good father," the man began, his eyes boring into hers. "He adores Adam and your son adores him too. They make each other so happy." Tears streamed from his face, but the man didn't care. He kept talking. "You and I both know that you don't really want to raise Adam. You enjoy the finer things in life - banquets, parties, theatre and galas. Children don't fit into your world."

She said nothing, so Ezra took that as a clue to continue. "You are away more than you're home. What kind of life is that for a child? Adam needs stability. He needs a parent who will always be there for him." Like Anthony. Or like me. "If you entrust Adam to his father, you'll be free to travel the world. Go wherever you want to go. Live the life you want to live. You can't do that when you have a child to care for."

He paused, the hope still surging through him at the wistful look in her eyes. Was his suggestion working? Was she actually considering changing her mind.

"Think about it," he pleaded, praying that she would consider his proposition, fearing what would happen to him if she agreed. Ezra didn't want to sell the bookshop. He didn't want to move to another country. He didn't want to say goodbye to Anthony.

But he would give it all up for them.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Fell," the woman stated and Ezra knew the conversation was over. He stood and respectfully nodded his head in parting before making his way to the door. She followed close behind, hand catching his arm as the door opened a crack.

"You've given me a lot to think about." Another pause as she searched Ezra's face for something. Whether or not she found what she was looking for, the man had no idea.

The door shut behind him and Ezra looked across the street to see Newton still sitting in the car, gazing out the other window at the people currently strolling through the park. Shoving his hands into his coat pocket, Ezra made his way down the steps and strode down the street toward his bookshop in Soho. He made it a total of four steps before the tears began to fall.


	27. Lying Awake at Night

He was awake. He had been awake for hours, staring up at the ceiling, wishing that the blankets beside him still smelled like Ezra. it had been two weeks since his angel had left. The man knew that eventually reminders of his presence would fade, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon.

Crowley _missed _Ezra. Missed him so much it felt like there was a gaping hole in his heart. Sometimes, he wondered if it would ever be filled again.

Ezra had called the night after he left. To his surprise, the message had come through Anathema instead of directly to the cottage. Ezra had seen some people lurking near his bookshop. He was worried that he was being watched. It was probably best if Anthony and Adam didn't stop by until after the trial was over. They couldn't risk everything now, not when they were so close.

As much as he hated to admit it, Ezra was probably right. Now that some time had passed for Mr. Device to gather some information on the case, Crowley was feeling much more confident in his ability to win. They just had to be patient for a little while longer and then they would be free to be together again as a family. All three of them.

Crowley sighed, imagining what their reunion would be like. He would drive Adam and himself immediately to the bookshop after the trial had finished. It was amazing to him how, after knowing Ezra for six months and loving him for nearly as long, Crowley still hadn't been by to visit his angel's home. This was the place Ezra had poured his life into for a decade and Crowley found he wanted to experience it for himself.

He wondered, would Ezra want to keep the bookshop after he moved into the cottage with them? Did he want to move in with them? Crowley always assumed the man would be fine with it. He'd left his livelihood before just to take care of Adam. Now, he had a whole other reason to stay with them. But would he want to?

Perhaps it would be best to ask the man before Crowley went about making any plans. Was that something that one just _asked _out of the blue? Should he lead up to the question by planning a romantic evening? Crowley had no experience with this. He hadn't even properly proposed to Lilith. The war had started and they'd just gotten married. There wasn't anything else to it. After Crowley had returned home, they moved in together, as husband and wife were bound to do.

Ezra would never be allowed to marry him. Even if Crowley vowed to love the man for the rest of their lives, which he fully intended to, Ezra would never be recognized as his husband. There was nothing in social convention that dictated they live together, but Crowley couldn't help hoping Ezra would be amenable to the idea.

He wanted his angel to live here, with him. As part of their family. For good.

A telephone ring jarred Crowley from his thoughts. He sat up on the bed, startled. It was bloody 11 o'clock in the evening! Who in the world could be calling them this late?

There was absolutely no reason for Crowley to suspect anything was amiss, but his heart didn't often listen to reason. It began to panic as he slid his feet from out under the covers and hurried to the kitchen. Of nothing else, he had to shut the damn noise off before -

_Thud_! The sound of small feet throwing themselves out of bed rang out above him. Adam had woken up and was currently halfway down the stairs, only a dozen feet behind his father.

"Who is it?" the boy whispered as Crowley picked up the phone. "Who is it?" The man brought a finger to his mouth to warn his son that they needed to be quiet. The boy immediately shut his mouth, looking up at his father with wide anxious eyes.

Crowley knew that Adam had only jumped out of bed because he thought the phone call was from Ezra. Why the man would be calling them this late at night, less than two weeks from the trial date, was concerning. Part of Crowley hoped that the caller wasn't Ezra. At least, if it was someone else, it wouldn't be a sign that something was wrong.

"Hello?" he asked, mind not awake enough to be more polite than that. "Who is this?"

"Anthony." The man's blood froze at the sound of his soon-to-be ex wife's voice. "Good, I was hoping you were up."

He blinked. "Do you have any idea what _time _it is?" he asked incredulously. "What in the heaven are you calling us for this late at night?"

"I'm sorry," the voice began, and Crowley was surprised to find he believed it. "This couldn't wait until tomorrow. I need to speak with Adam, right away."

Crowley stared open-mouthed at the wall. Lilith wanted to talk to Adam. Why? What did she want to talk to him about? It couldn't be anything good. He should simply hang up. Tell her off quickly and go put Adam back to bed, but something caused the man to pause. He was trying to prove to her that he could be a good parent, wasn't he? Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let Lilith talk to her son freely. Anything he could do to show her that what she was doing was a mistake had to be good, right?

"Hold on one moment." Crowley wasn't going to force Adam to talk to his mother if he didn't want to. He would let the boy decide.

Placing his hand over the mouthpiece, Crowley crouched down and turned to face his son. "Adam?" he began quietly. "It's your mother on the phone. She wants to talk to you. Is that alright?"

The boy's face fell, but only a little. Crowley's heart ached at how sad Adam was without Ezra around. The two of them had grown so close within the past few months. Ezra had completely changed his son's life.

Eventually, Adam nodded. Crowley beckoned his son over and handed him the telephone.

"Mum?" The boy's voice was timid and afraid. Crowely felt anger surging within him. What kind of parent evoked this kind of reaction from their child? The difference between the boy's reaction when he thought the phone call had been from Ezra and how he was behaving now was astronomical. It spoke volumes about his son's wonderful relationship with the blonde haired bookkeeper.

How anyone could honestly tell him that Adam was better off with Ezra out of his life was complete insanity.

Adam's eyes drifted upward for a second as he looked at his father. Crowley couldn't hear what the woman was saying to their son, but he felt a torrent of nerves starting to build. He didn't like the idea of Lilith talking to Adam. What if she upset him? What if she tried to convince him to go live with her - to leave both Crowley and Ezra behind. Surely, no amount of bribery would get the boy to agree to that. Adam loved living with them, right? He didn't want to go back to London.

"Yeah." Adam was looking directly at Crowley now. What was that woman saying to him? Was he starting to cry? Or was that just the reflection of the kitchen light in his eyes?

A few seconds passed and then Adam moved the phone away from his mouth, covering the bottom like he had seen his dad do earlier. "Mum says she needs you to leave the room," he explained. His voice had gained some confidence and he was looking up at Crowley with determination written all over his face. "She said she needs to talk to me about something important and she doesn't want you eatsdropping."

Crowley frowned. It took a few moments for his brain to make the connection. "Eavesdropping," he corrected first, before offering up any formal complaint. "She doesn't want me to listen to the conversation." He didn't like that. Crowley did not like that one bit.

He had a choice to make. On the one hand, Crowley could say 'no'. He could take the phone back from Adam and decline Lilith's request. She would be unhappy about that. After all, she had called them at eleven at night with something that 'couldn't wait until morning.' What the hell did that even mean? Was this a good sign for them, or was it a sign that the end was on the horizon for their little family?

On the other hand, Crowley could let her talk to Adam. He could leave the room and allow the two to talk and maybe Lilith would see how he put the needs of his son over his own preferences. Maybe this would work in his favor when they all went to trial.

Or maybe this was some kind of test. And choosing wrong would result in Adam being taken away forever.

Still in a crouching position, Crowley locked gazes with his son. He noticed, for the first time, that Adam was actually a bit taller than him now when the man did this. A gentle smile appeared on his face. His little boy was growing up.

"Be honest with me, Adam," Crowley began, not breaking eye contact. "Do you want to talk to her? Or do you want me to tell her not to call us back?"

The boy pondered the question for a moment, biting the inside of his lip in an adorable frown. Was it possible to feel overwhelming adoration and despair at the same time, from the same simple action? Crowley loved his son more than anything else in the world. Adam was being _so_ brave through this entire ordeal and the man had never been prouder of anything in his life. That being said, Adam shouldn't have to be brave. He was a kid, for someone's sake! He shouldn't have to navigate the intricacies of this _mess_ that they'd all found themselves in.

Eventually, Adam nodded. "Yes. I'd like to talk to her."

Crowley let go of a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. He tried to tell himself that things would be fine. There was nothing wrong with letting Adam talk to his mother. In fact, this was a good thing. He had no idea how, but Crowley refused to think of the situation in any other way. His heart couldn't take any more grief.

Without another word, the man headed to the back door. He paused in the doorway, telling Adam to come out and find him when he was done and then shut the door behind him.

For the briefest of moments, the man thought about hanging near the back door to try and catch some of the one-sided conversation, but he eventually thought better about it. He was trying to set a good example here. Now was the time to step back and let Adam take the reigns.

Crowley was going to have to trust his son.

* * *

He was awake. He had been awake for hours, sitting in his favorite armchair, staring at the pair of empty suitcase sitting across the room. How was he supposed to condense his entire life into this one bag? Ezra's clothes had already been packed. They had been easy. Dress shirts were just that - shirts. A dime a dozen. Easily replaced. But books? How could he possibly take even half of them with him?

Ezra had tried to think of a way, but after two weeks, he had come up short. Any which way he tried to move all of his books to wherever he was going was traceable. Given enough motivation, Anthony would be able to find him, and Ezra couldn't allow that. The man had motivation by the bucketload. It wouldn't take him long to track down whatever means of transportation Ezra had used for this many books and then all was lost.

Very well, then. Ezra could narrow them down some. He would only bring his very favorites with him. That wouldn't be so hard to decide, would it?

If he were being honest with himself, the bookshop owner had been worried about his offer to Mrs. Crowley. He would sell the shop over a hundred times to ensure Adam could remain with his father. The problem was, Ezra didn't know how to go about selling it, especially when he'd had a little less than a month.

He needn't have worried. Just a few days ago, someone had waltzed in, dressed head to toe in a sharp black suit, and offered him a ridiculous sum of money for the place. It would be enough for Ezra to replace many of the books he would be forced to leave behind.

That should have come as a relief, but the thought only made the blonde haired man want to cry. He didn't _want _to replace his books. He'd give them all up in an instant if it meant he could keep Adam and Anthony in his life.

Sighing, the man stood up once more and plodded over to his table stacked high with books. Ezra picked up the top one and stared at it for a long time.

'Romeo and Juliet'. It was Shakespeare, of course, which meant he had to keep it. Except, if he kept his entire collection of plays, there would be no room for anything else. Perhaps he would only keep one or two. Ezra glanced down the column of books until he found the one he was looking for.

'Hamlet' had been the first of them that he'd read when he was just fourteen years old. It was that summer that Ezra had fallen in love with literature. Without 'Hamlet' he likely wouldn't be where he was today.

Ezra didn't know whether to thank the book or throw it straight into the fire.

Placing 'Hamlet' into his suitcase, he turned to the table and began to run through a list of the other books sitting in front of him and all the reasons they should and should not make the journey with him.

The man didn't even know where he was going. He'd decided to not decide and choose a location when he got to the ferry. Obviously, he would need to travel to France first. Paris would likely be the first stop, but from there, the world was at his fingertips. He could go anywhere.

Anywhere except for the one place he longed to go.

In the end, Ezra chose five books to come with him. 'Peter and Wendy' was another he couldn't bear to leave behind. Adam still had Ezra's original copy, but the man had gone out and found another one. He knew it was likely a foolish move and would only hurt him in the long run, but at the time, it made his heart happy to sit down and read the worn pages over and over again.

He also chose to bring his collection of Oscar Wilde's poetry. Ezra figured that he had a small representation of works from the 'stage play' genre. It wouldn't hurt to keep some of the poetry and Wilde was by far his favorite. It was as good a reason as any to add the book to his bag.

That left prose. Ezra struggled a long time with this choice, not because he didn't have anything he wanted to bring, but because there were far too many choices. How did one choose from the entire history of the written word? There was Mary Shelley, Jane Austin, Charles Dickens, Robert Louis Stevenson, and so many others.

In the end, he kept 'A Christmas Carol', because it reminded him that even the cruelest people in the world could change for the better, and 'Treasure Island'. He had always enjoyed reading that particular book to the children that used to stop by his shop. One day, when he was a bit older, Ezra had planned to read it to Adam.

When he was finished, the suitcase looked so empty. The man supposed he could fill it with more books or another few outfits, but what was the point? He was leaving this place forever, to start a new life. What would bringing reminders of his past - of all that he had lost - what would that help? They would only serve to make him more miserable.

Maybe that was what he deserved. Mrs. Crowley had called him sick. Ezra couldn't remember a time in his life when he hadn't felt like this. What if there _was_ something wrong with him? What if something had happened to him as a baby that had made him like this? It wasn't his fault, sure, but that didn't change the fact that he was _wrong._

All he wanted to do was be left in peace to love Anthony and Adam. the world had decided that he wasn't permitted to do that, so Ezra would leave. He would go far away and Mrs. Crowley would leave Anthony and Adam alone, and yes, they would be sad for a while, but they would be ok in the end. They would have each other.

Ezra had no written assurance or otherwise that Anthony's wife would drop the case if he left, but he was out of options. He could not let himself be the reason father and son were torn from each other. Not to mention the fact that if this case went to trial, there was a very real possibility that Ezra could be sent to jail or worse. He didn't know enough about the law to know if what he and Anthony had already done was enough to break it. Was kissing enough to condemn him? Did the knowledge that he loved Anthony paint a giant red target on his back?

The man shook his head. No use in pondering all of that now. He had made a deal with Mrs. Crowley and based on the events of the previous week, it looked as if she might take him up on it. There was nothing else Ezra could do. The situation was entirely out of his hands.

Ezra was going to have to trust Lilith Crowley.


	28. Stay With Me

The night before Anthony's trial, Ezra received a phone call. In an instant, he was on his feet and racing down the stairs. Who would be calling him? The bookshop was most definitely closed, and not only because the man would be departing for another country in the morning. Even if Ezra had chosen to stick around, there was no way he would still be open for business at five in the evening. That was practically suppertime.

"Hello?" The man began, then, remembering that he was in a bookshop, Ezra continued. "A. Z. Fell & Co. I'm afraid to say we are closed for the evening."

"Ezra," came a distinctly familiar feminine voice. "It's Anathema."

His heart leapt into his throat. Why was Anathema calling him? Had something happened? Were Anthony and Adam alright? Was she just calling to check on how he was doing? Had she experienced a _feeling_ that clued her in to what he was planning to do?

"H-hello dear!" He cursed his nerves. How had he ever thought he would be able to hide anything from her? Anathema would see through him in an instant. "What can I do for you this fine evening?"

A pause. Ezra thought he heard voices talking on the other side of the line, but they were too muffled to make out. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a very impatient, excited, six year old -" she broke out as another voice interrupted her, still too muted to understand. "Sorry," the woman amended after a moment. "A very impatient, excited _seven-_year-old that absolutely has to speak to you."

Ezra felt excitement and fear envelop him simultaneously. _Adam_. He forced himself to remain calm. Anathema had said the boy was excited. That had to be a good thing, right? Who would be excited about something _bad_ happening?

"Go ahead," Ezra began, taking a deep breath. "Hand him the phone."

Almost instantly, there was another voice on the line talking to him.

"Mr. Fell!" Adam was indeed excited. "Hi, Mr. Fell."

Ezra smiled, despite the heavy weight on his heart. He could just imagine the boy bouncing up and down, unable to contain himself. "Hello, my dear boy. How are you doing?"

"I'm good," came the response. "I started school. It's ok. I like the books we've read so far, but the kids aren't very nice. And I'm always so tired."

The man nodded, mostly to himself. He couldn't imagine what time Adam had to get up in order to get to school on time. And then he was probably home so very late. It sounded like a horrible situation for all involved, but for the time being, it was necessary.

"Dad said I can go to a new school once the judge says I can live with him forever. One that's a lot closer. I think I'll like that."

"I'm sure you will," Ezra responded, not knowing what else to say to the boy. He wanted to say so many things. _You'll have to tell me how your first day goes. Maybe I can let you borrow some of my books to take to school. Perhaps your dad and I could switch off who drives you, would you like that?_

Ezra couldn't say any of those things because he wasn't going to be here. After this phone call, he was likely to never hear the boy's voice again. He would never see Adam again.

He would never see Anthony again.

Despair clung to the man like spider's silk. He tried to brush it off, tried to think of something else - of anything else, but it was no use.

Voices sounded through the phone, muffled again. Ezra strained his ears to hear. Was that Newton talking to Adam? The voice sounded too deep to be Anathema.

"Hang on," Adam was back. "Dad wants to talk to you."

Before Ezra could protest - before he could say that it was probably best if he didn't talk to Anthony because it might actually kill him, there was an achingly familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey angel," Anthony's voice was soft and sweet and filled with longing. Just the sound of it brought tears to Ezra's eyes. Why did his life have to be like this? All the other times he had love and been denied it, the man had come to accept it. He couldn't force another human being to love him, so it was alright if they didn't. This time, however, _this_ time, Anthony had dared to love him back and Ezra _still_ couldn't have him. It took all of his willpower not to break down in that moment.

"Anthony, dear," Ezra tried to keep his voice warm. He tried to think of only happy thoughts - how he'd felt when they'd first admitted their feelings for each other. That one glorious week in the countryside with Anthony and Adam. Everything had been perfect then. He had been so, so happy.

As much as he tried, it was impossible to untangle the happiness from the misery now. Every memory of Anthony was tainted with sorrow because Ezra knew that it was all over. He would never have another memory like that again.

"Ezra, I miss you so much," Anthony breathed and Ezra was finished. Tears flowed from his eyes and he choked back a sob.

"Come to the cottage tonight," the man urged, his voice pleading. Ezra couldn't say anything. He wanted to say '_yes, of course I'll come. I'll be there as soon as I can'. _He should say '_My dear, we're only one day away. What if something happens and we lose everything? I will see you both tomorrow after the trial. We can celebrate then'._ None of those words came out. He was too busy remembering how to breathe through his tears. "Have dinner with us and Anathema and Newt. There's nothing suspicious about friends having dinner. Please, angel."

_There is when Lilith knows I love you. When I promised her I'd never see you or Adam again._

"Alright." The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. Ezra couldn't help himself. He was about to lose everything in the world that mattered to him. Who was he to deny himself this chance to see them one more time? "Yes, dinner sounds lovely."

Part of him was impressed with how put together he had sounded. Somehow, Ezra had managed to talk through his tears, push through his sorrow. Perhaps it was because he knew if he didn't, Anthony would grow suspicious. Or maybe it was because the thought of seeing Anthony and Adam again filled him with a joy that was strong enough to banish his despair for the time being. Either way, Anthony was none the wiser. For that, Ezra was grateful.

"Excellent. Newton is already on his way to get you. We will see you soon. I love you, angel."

Of course someone was already on their way. Ezra chuckled. He should just start expecting things like this to happen when dealing in any way with Anathema and her fiance.

"I love you too, Anthony," he murmured quietly, relief washing through him as he was finally able to speak a whole truth. Gently, Ezra placed the phone back where it belonged. He then hurried upstairs to grab his bag that had been packed and ready to go for weeks now.

As far as he saw it, Ezra had two options. He could either take nothing with him and request to be driven home after dinner. This would be the easiest course for him to take, but it might also make Anthony suspicious. If Ezra really was optimistic about Anthony's ability to win the case, there would be no need for him to have to leave the cottage right away. He suspected the red haired man would expect him to stay, at least tonight and maybe more after. If Ezra requested to be returned to his bookshop, Anthony would want to know why.

The man couldn't very well tell him that he was planning on leaving forever, could he?

His other option was for Ezra to act like he was planning on staying a few days. That would require him to pack a suitcase to take with him, which he already had prepared. Ezra could spend the night with Anthony and then when he and Adam left in the morning, Ezra could get a ride back to London, where he would head to the ferry and depart for France. If all went well, he would be in Paris before the trial was completed.

So far, the only hitch in this plan was his ability to get from Crawley to London. Usually, it was Anathema or Newton that drove him if he wasn't riding with Anthony. If he asked either one of them, surely they would try and prevent him from leaving, wouldn't they? Could he pay someone else to drive him to London? Walk into town and hitch a ride?

Ezra sighed. He'd figure it out later. Right now, all the man wanted was for Newton to get here so he could temporarily put his mind to rest.

Newton arrived at precisely 5:15 and an hour later they were pulling up into the cottage drive. Ezra felt a smile spread over his face when he noticed that Anthony, Adam, and Anathema were all sitting outside waiting for them.

Adam got to him first. The moment Ezra stepped out of the car, the boy was flinging himself at the blonde haired man. Ezra dropped his suitcase on the dusty ground and wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him more tightly than he ever had before.

"I'm glad you're back, Mr. Fell," Adam breathed into his chest. "I missed you."

Ezra smiled softly. "I missed you too, dear boy."

They parted and Ezra stood up, his blue eyes finding amber ones, even in the waning light of the autumn evening. A few steps and Anthony was standing before him, wrapping his arms around Ezra, burying his face into the man's neck.

Ezra gripped Anthony tightly, never ever wanting to let go. The peace that overtook him was unlike anything he had ever known. Even though the man's life was falling down around him, here in Anthony's arms, everything felt alright.

This was where he belonged.

"I missed you so much," Ezra admitted. _How am I ever going to live without you?_

"It's alright, angel," Anthony murmured into his ear, sending shivers down Ezra's spine. "You're here now. That's all that matters." Ezra felt the man's gaze move upward. He paused. "You brought a suitcase."

Ezra nodded, finally stepping back to look at Anthony. He offered a tentative smile that he prayed didn't look too grief-stricken. "It's for after the trial."

Not technically a lie. Although Ezra knew the way Anthony would interpret the statement was almost the complete opposite to how Ezra had intended it. He hoped that this half lie would not be as easy to spot as his real ones.

Anthony beamed at him, then leaned in to kiss Ezra. The kiss was chaste, as they had an audience at the moment, but it held the promise of so much _more. _Ezra felt himself go weak at the knees, just thinking about what their last night together could be.

"Shall we go eat some dinner?" the man asked, more than a little breathless. He felt Anthony snake his arm around his waist as the man turned to face everyone else. There were smiles all about, on each and every face.

_God,_ how Ezra was going to miss this place.

Dinner passed by entirely too fast, as all enjoyable things tend to. Ezra had wanted this evening to last a lifetime, and it had flown by in the blink of an eye. All too soon, they were bidding Newton and Anathema goodbye and ushering Adam up to bed.

"Can you read me a story, Mr. Fell?" the boy asked, jumping up and down beside his bed. Ezra simply smiled and told him to go ahead and pick one out and get into bed.

They read three books together before Anthony finally put his foot down and told Adam he had to go to sleep. Ezra knew he'd gotten carried away, but sitting on the bed with Adam, reading story after story had been a perfect escape. He had never wanted to leave.

"I love how good with him you are," Anthony whispered as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He turned to flash the man a smile and found hands caressing his face gently, pulling him into a kiss. Ezra melted into it, wrapping his hands around Anthony's neck, leaning forward to press their bodies together. He felt arms wrap themselves around his waist, hands slipping up underneath his vest, tugging at the dress shirt beneath.

Fire swept through Ezra and he gasped as the shirt came untucked and warm hands brushed the small of his back. Quickly, the man's hands found their way to Anthony's collar and began to undo the buttons. He'd slipped three from their holes when the man pulled back from their kiss, gasping for breath.

"We should probably," he panted, stifling a moan as Ezra surged forward and began to press his lips upon the newly exposed skin of Anthony's throat. "We should move this somewhere else. There are little ears who might hear us."

Ezra simply nodded and pressed one more kiss to the hollow of Anthony's throat, drawing forth another moan. He smiled, committing that particular spot to memory. They retreated into the bedroom without another word. No sooner were they inside, the door closing behind them, then Ezra found himself being flung down onto the bed, a very handsome red haired man climbing on top of him.

"Ezra," Anthony breathed in between kisses as he worked to undo the man's vest. "Angel, you're so _beautiful._"

The man felt his cheeks flush with color. Whether it was from the compliment from his beloved or the sudden feeling of those long, dexterous fingers running over his partially exposed chest, he didn't know. Ezra lifted his own hands to finish removing Anthony's shirt, tugging it off his shoulders with a single flourish.

"Not as beautiful as you, my dear," the man whispered, wrapping his arms around Anthony's torso and pulling him closer. He delighted in Anthony's small moan of pleasure. Nothing existed in the world except for the two of them in that moment. The world could end tomorrow - in fact, for Ezra, it was going to, but none of that mattered right now. Gone were his doubts and his fears. His sorrow and his pain. How could Ezra feel anything but pure contentment when he was in Anthony's arms?

Eventually, with a bit of finagling, they managed to remove Ezra's vest and shirt, discarding it onto the floor along with Anthony's. He'd thought everything leading up to this had been wonderful, but nothing could have prepared Ezra for the glorious feeling of his skin against Anthony's. He could feel the man's heart beating beneath his fingertips as his hands traced the muscles of Anthony's chest. The rhythm was fast and strong, just like the beat of his own heart.

A moan escaped him as Anthony's lips found his neck, exploring with gentle kisses and the light brushes of teeth and tongue. Ezra's hands curled up around the man's shoulders, nails digging lightly into the fair skin. Crowley's breath hitched with the sensation and Ezra repeated it several times as he felt the man tremble with desire beneath him.

"I love you, Anthony," Ezra whispered into the space between them. He needed the man to _know_. "I will love you with all that I am until the end of time."

Anthony moved to press his lips against Ezra's. The blonde man parted them easily, slipping his tongue into Anthony's mouth. The man groaned and reached a hand to Ezra's neck, grasping his face tightly like he would never let go.

Ezra never wanted him to.

"I love you too, Ezra," he whispered, finally pulling back. "My beautiful, wonderful, perfect angel."

They kissed again and Ezra felt his hands moving slowly down Anthony's back, landing at the waist of his pants. Inch by inch, they crept forward until his perfectly manicured fingernails rested on the front buckle of Anthony's belt. Hesitantly, heat coursing through his body, Ezra began to undo it.

Anthony froze and Ezra immediately took his hands back. He broke their kiss abruptly and tried to scoot away. "I'm so sorry Anthony," he blubbered, tears already threatening to fall even though he had no idea why his love had stopped. "I didn't mean - I thought that - "

How foolish had he been to think Anthony wanted this? He should have left well enough alone. It was one thing to tell someone you loved them. To kiss them and hold them. It was an entirely different thing to go forward with the thing Ezra so desperately wanted. He should have stopped to ask Anthony first before assuming anything. And now he'd ruined everything.

"Shh," The red haired man soothed, leaning down to kiss Ezra sweetly. "Angel, you've done nothing wrong." He climbed off of Ezra slowly and wrapped an arm around the man to pull him closer so they were laying down together, heads against the pillows, Ezra laying bare skinned against Anthony's exposed chest.

"I thought that's what you wanted," the man whispered, waiting for the inevitable rejection. Anthony could say he loved Ezra all day long, but the man knew that no one would ever _want _him in that way. How could they? He wasn't particularly attractive, not like Anthony or Lilith or even Anathema. Ezra was overweight and boring and not at all to Anthony Crowley's taste. He shouldn't be surprised.

Anthony sighed, but there was an edge of longing to it that caught Ezra's attention. "I _do_. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, Ezra." He paused, as if trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind. "There is a chance that tomorrow, during the trial, I will be asked about my...faithfulness." Ezra could feel him tense. Anthony turned his head so he was gazing into Ezra's eyes. The man felt his heart begin to flutter.

"I want to be able to truthfully say that I was technically faithful to her in that way. That I didn't sleep with anyone else. I know it's probably stupid. That it shouldn't matter if I have or not because neither one of us care at this point and she's probably already found someone else, but it's important to me that I don't lie tomorrow. Can you understand that, angel?"

Ezra was crying. Would these tears ever stop? He smiled up at Anthony, pressing a soft kiss to the man's lips. What a beautiful, thoughtful, noble creature Anthony Crowley was. Ezra didn't know of anyone else who would give up the thing they wanted most just to be seen in a better light. The man knew Anthony was doing this for Adam's sake. To prove that he was the best parent he could possibly be. Seeing how far Anthony had come made Ezra's heart happy. It was completely worth giving up his only chance to be with Anthony in this way. Sometimes, there were more important things to consider.

"I love you, Anthony," he murmured again into the kiss. "And of course I understand." To show his approval, Ezra squeezed the arm draped around Anthony's torso, an attempt at a hug. He felt Anthony smile into his hair, placing a kiss atop the golden curls.

"Will you stay here with me tonight?" Anthony asked quietly into the darkness. "Just like this? I just want to hold you."

Ezra forced the tears not to fall this time. This was his last night with the love of his life and he was not going to ruin it now by being sad. There would be time enough for that later. For now, Ezra simply wanted to live in the moment, basking in Anthony's love, thinking of all that could be, if only the world were different.

"Of course. I would love nothing more."

He thought that would be the end of it. Ezra's eyes fluttered shut as he breathed in the scent of cedar and autumn spices. Without being too obvious, Ezra tried to commit them to memory. Perhaps he would be able to recreate it later, once he was gone.

Time passed and Anthony spoke again. "Will you stay here forever?" There was an uncertainty to his voice this time, a fear that Ezra would say 'no', that Ezra might leave. The man's heart ached at the sound. "WIll you stay here with me and Adam? Will you let this be your home?"

Ezra clutched Anthony tighter, knowing that if he opened his eyes, he wouldn't be able to stop the tears. He had been so good tonight. The man wasn't about to let one little question break him now. He still had a job to do. If he messed up now, Adam could still be taken away.

"My dear Anthony," Ezra breathed, choosing his words wisely. "This already is my home. I never want to leave it again."

Technically, he wasn't lying, he was omitting a very important truth, but Anthony didn't need to know that. All he needed to know was that Ezra loved him and wanted nothing more than to stay with him forever, even if what he wanted wasn't in the cards.

It never was.


	29. The Trial

The trial was to take place at the Central Family Courthouse at 8am on Monday morning, September 20th. Crowley had woken Adam up before dawn and gotten him dressed and fed. Ezra had gotten up too and joined them, bidding them a fond farewell with a hug and a kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Good luck today," he had murmured in a sad, wistful sort of way that had tugged at Crowley's heart. He had brushed it off as pre-trial nerves and had thought nothing more of it as the man had made the drive back into the city, Adam sleeping quietly in the back seat.

Everything was going to be fine. He told himself that over and over again as the landscape passed him by. They had a strong case. He was a good father. It was best for Adam to stay with him, not go back to London. He had to believe that.

They parked along the street right outside the building and Crowley turned to look at his son, sleeping soundly, his head just touching the base of the window. Gently, the man reached back and placed his hand on Adam's knee. A single shake was all he needed to wake the boy up. Adam yawned and opened his eyes, blinking them several times as they focused on his father's face.

"Hey, kid." Crowley smiled at the young boy. "You ready?"

Adam smiled back, so brightly that all of the man's worries melted away. What he wouldn't give to have faith like this. Adam wasn't afraid about what was going to happen. He believed that everything would work itself out for the best.

They climbed out of the car and walked hand in hand through the front doors of the dull, grey building. Crowley glanced down at the boy beside him, dressed in an identical black suit, his curly brown hair combed neatly to the side. He smiled, unable to hold in the love and pride he felt in that moment. Adam was being so _brave_. He walked in the front doors without a care in the world, like his whole life wasn't about to change forever.

Crowley froze when the first thing he saw walking in those doors was Lilith, sitting on a bench by the front window.

She looked up immediately as the door opened, an unreadable expression on her face. There was no one with her. The woman had come alone, dressed rather casually for a day as important as this. Where was her lawyer? Why wasn't she already on her way up to the courtroom? Was she waiting for them? It seemed unlikely, but what else would she be doing down here?

Without his permission, Crowley's feet walked over toward his wife. She rose to meet him, stopping a few feet away, a hesitant smile on her face. The man's eyes drifted toward her hands. In them was a single manilla envelope. No writing, no labels. It was entirely blank.

"Good," Lilith began, looking up at her husband. Crowley frowned, not sure what she was going on about. Had she, in fact, been waiting for them. "I was hoping the two of you would get here early."

"Why?" Crowley couldn't help the sneer in his voice. He was just so angry. She was trying to take his son away from him and she didn't even want the boy. She didn't love him like Crowley did. She didn't cherish the time that they spent together, if they spent any together at all. The woman only cared about Adam as an accessory. A way for her to acquire bragging rights within her circle of friends. She didn't come close to deserving a son as wonderful as Adam. "So we could get this trial over and done with? I hope you know that I'm not giving up Adam without a fight. I will drag this thing out for weeks if I have to."

She had the audacity to smile at that. It was more amused than joyful, but it still caused Crowley's blood to boil. The nerve.

"Anthony," she began, holding his gaze for a moment, then turning to look down at Adam. "There isn't going to be a trial."

Adam let go of his hand and raced toward his mother, wrapping his arms around her legs in a hug. The boy was beaming from ear to ear. Crowley could not remember a time when he'd seen Adam happier.

His heart broke.

This was all his fault. He'd allowed Lilith to talk to Adam on the phone and she'd somehow convinced him that he was better off staying with her. What had she said to him to persuade the boy to leave his father so easily? Why hadn't Adam mentioned anything about this before now? Was he really so happy to see his mother? To leave here and go home with her?

Crowley had thought Adam was happy with him. He'd thought the boy never wanted to come back to London. Adam had even said as much, so what had happened? Where had he gone wrong?

"You really did it, mom?" he heard the boy ask. Crowley frowned. Did what? What was going on here? He didn't understand, but the pain in his chest kept growing with every second. Adam didn't want him. Adam didn't want to stay with him. He wanted to go back to his home in London and be with his mother. She didn't deserve him, but Adam wanted her anyway. His son loved her more than Crowley.

The man watched with wide eyes as Lilith lowered her free hand and patted Adam awkwardly on the top of his head. When the boy pulled back, she smiled hesitantly and handed him the envelope. "Go ahead," she urged, looking back up at Crowley with soft brown eyes. "Go give these to your father."

"Lilith, what is going on?" the man asked, gravely, his eyes never leaving Adam's face as the boy took the envelope from his mother and hurried back over to Crowley's side. It was heavier than he'd thought it would be. What could possibly be inside? And why was there not going to be a trial? Lilith certainly wasn't dropping it, was she? Why wouldn't she have called to tell them earlier? Why make them drive all the way out here to tell them they needn't have come?

"Open it," was her only response.

Crowley did. Inside he found three sections of paper clipped together. Quickly, his amber eyes read over the first one, mouth dropping open as he realized what it was and the implications this collection of papers held. He immediately looked back up at Lilith, sure that this was some kind of trick or if she had made a mistake.

"These are papers for our divorce," he breathed, not believing what he was seeing. "Citing your infidelity as the reason."

She nodded her head and his eyes went wide. Was this a trick? Was he stuck in some sort of dream? How was this happening? Why was this happening? What reason could she possibly have to give him a gift of this magnitude?

"Why?" his eyes were wide, gazing down at her in disbelief. "Why would you do this?

"It occurred to me that neither one of us is happy in this marriage," she breathed, looking away from him. "And I haven't been very...understanding of all the things you've been through over the years. In all honesty, I've likely made things worse for you. I thought, perhaps I should be the one to take the blame for this. To make up for everything I've put you through."

Quickly, Crowley flipped through the pages. He was no lawyer, but everything appeared to be in order. Lilith had even signed the document in several places. It would seem that all there was left to do was sign the thing himself.

"It's all standard," she began to explain. "I had my lawyer draw it up the other day. If there's anything in there you don't agree with, I'd be more than happy to sit down and discuss it."

The man shook his head. "No," he didn't know what to say. Where was all this coming from? Why was she being so agreeable all of a sudden? "This is fine." He looked up and forced a cheeky grin. "As long as you didn't rob me for my entire life savings."

He had been joking. Crowley didn't care about the money. He'd give it all up to keep Adam in his life. Lilith's face fell all the same. She had never really gotten his sense of humor.

"I had the funds split half and half." Her brows furrowed with worry. "Like I said, we can discuss it further if - "

Crowley quickly held up a hand, eyes skimming the last page. "No, Lilith. That's not necessary." He almost told her the truth, that he would have given her all of his money if it meant keeping Adam and Ezra, but at the last minute, he fell silent. No reason to press his luck now. Even though she had been more agreeable about the divorce, there was still the matter of Adam's place in all of this. Crowley couldn't risk jeopardizing that to ensure his soon to be ex-wife felt comfortable in her decision.

"Is that all that's there, Dad?" Adam asked curiously, tugging on the man's arm. Crowley wondered how the boy could be so calm in a situation like this. They were discussing divorce here, and Adam seemed to not care at all. Perhaps it was because Crowley and his wife had never really portrayed a united front. Adam had never seen them display any indication that they were in love. He and Lilith had basically acted as separate units for Adam's entire life. The divorce just made everything official.

The next set of documents were custody papers. Crowley thought he had reached his limit of surprises for the day. The man had never expected Lilith to grant him divorce papers so easily, and with her as the one at fault. There couldn't possibly be anything more she could do that he wouldn't see coming. He had never been more wrong. On the page before him was a collection of papers declaring that full custody for Adam Crowley was to be awarded wholly and completely to his father, Anthony J. Crowley.

And the boy's godfather, Ezra Fell.

"You…" he trailed off, amber eyes wide. "What did you -? How did you - ? Why?"

His wife smiled sadly at him. "I started all of this in order to do what I thought was best for Adam. I will be the first to admit that I'm probably not the best authority to decide what that is." She looked down at the boy, sorrow flashing in her brown eyes. Crowley didn't need Lilith to say the words out loud. He knew just as well as she did that the woman was a stranger to her own son. How could she possibly know what he needed when she didn't even know him? "I thought that approaching the courts might be the best way to go, but after Mr. Fell came to talk to me I started to wonder if I should maybe ask Adam what he thought instead. It didn't seem fair to let a bunch of strangers make such an important decision about his life without even asking him what he wanted."

Two thoughts simultaneously ran through Crowley's mind, making it difficult to focus all of his attention on either. Was that what Lilith had called Adam to talk about? What had the boy told her? Had he asked to live with his father? Was that what the boy wanted?

And what was that other bit she had said? Had Lilith mentioned Ezra going to visit her? When had he done that? Why had he never said anything about it? What had he said to her?

The man looked down at his son. Adam was gazing up at Crowley with wide hazel eyes, trying to catch a glimpse at the papers in his hands. The man doubted Adam could read much of what was written - the typeset was rather close together and he had only started reading a little while ago. Granted, Adam had improved a hundredfold in the time since Ezra had started working with him, but Crowley still felt these words might be a bit beyond him.

"What does it say, Dad? What does it say?"

Crowley took a breath. He kneeled down and wrapped his arm around Adam, pointing to the top line of the page where two names were clearly written.

"It says that we don't have to talk to the judge. Your mom gave her permission for you to live with me."

The boy's eyes lit up. He flung his arms around Crowley's neck and hugged him tightly. The man smiled, tears pricking at his eyes. No matter what he tried, he couldn't keep the stupid smile off his face. The man had told himself a hundred times that things were going to turn out alright, but this was the first time he actually believed it would.

"You talked to Adam?" Crowley asked as he stood up, the boy hanging off his neck, wrapping his legs around the man's waist. Crowley readjusted his arms, passing the papers to his right hand while his left arm tucked itself up under Adam to support the boy and prevent him from falling.

Lilith nodded and signaled for Adam to go ahead and explain. The boy turned toward his father, smiling. "She told me what you two were fighting about and asked me what I wanted. I said I wanted to live in the country with you. That it would make me happy."

Crowley turned back to Lilith. She was looking at her son in a way he'd never seen before, affection shining in her eyes. "He also told me that if he left, you would be sad and if he stayed, I wouldn't be. I realized that he was right, and allowing him to stay brought about a more positive result for everyone involved."

The man nodded his head. It made sense. Crowley had known that was the case for a while. He just hadn't expected Lilith to come to the same conclusion so easily.

"What a very wise boy we have, isn't he, Anthony?" the woman asked quietly. Crowley felt his smile widen as he thought of the amazing person that was Adam Crowley.

"He is."

They stood there for a moment, both lost in thought. Then, Crowley's eyes drifted down to the paper again, to the name that was penned next to his own.

_Ezra Fell_

"You mentioned Ezra came to talk to you?" Crowley didn't know what else to ask. His angel hadn't mentioned a single word about seeing Lilith. What could they possibly have talked about? When had this happened?

She nodded. "He stopped by the house a few weeks ago, to talk about Adam. He wanted to understand why my opinion on Adam's caretaker had changed all of a sudden. I -" the woman's voice broke off as she looked away again. "I'm afraid I was rather unfair to him at the time. You see," Crowley watched as she took a deep breath, clearly struggling with the words she wanted to say. "I suspected his feelings toward you from the moment I dropped Adam off in his care and it had been eating away at me. I was uncomfortable with the thought of Mr. Fell being so close to Adam, the way that he is, and I thought it best to remove Adam from the situation as soon as possible. That was the reason for," she gestured around them, "all this."

Crowley felt his stomach churn with resentment and fear. Out of all of them, Ezra was the one best suited to raise Adam. He was kind, compassionate, patient, wise. More so than either of them, Ezra's heart was filled with love. He knew how to display it and share it with the people around him. Hell, he'd taught Crowley how to love his son. Who would be better suited to be such a prominent figure in Adam's life?

Fear wormed its way into his heart. Lilith knew about Ezra's feelings and had said nothing. Why? What reason would she have to keep their secret? Was she saving the information to use against them later? It didn't seem likely. Along with naming Crowley and Ezra as Adam's guardians, the paperwork she had already signed relinquished her parental rights. If she had wanted to gain control of Adam, that knowledge would have given her everything she needed to win the case, and yet she had settled things a different way.

"The way that he is?" the words seeped out of him almost like a hiss. Crowley's anger overtook the fear, not understanding how anyone could see Ezra Fell as anything less than a wonderful human being. "Are you out of your bloody mind? He's the best person I know. Given the choice between the three of us, I would choose him as Adam's guardian every time."

Lilith raised her hands in surrender. "You can't ask me to change my worldview in a day, Anthony," she started, a hardness seeping into her voice for the first time. "I am here recognizing that I misjudged him. That maybe, I didn't take the time I should have to understand him. I thought he would be a bad influence on Adam, but after he promised to sell his bookshop and leave the country, just so the two of you could be together - well, I'd never seen anyone do something so selfless before. It stuck with me."

She continued speaking, droning on about how highly Adam had spoken of the man when they'd talked on the phone, but Crowley wasn't listening. He had frozen in his place, mind repeating one of the last things Lilith had said, eyes open wide like he was in a trance.

_He promised to sell his bookshop and leave the country, just so the two of you could be together._

Ezra wouldn't. He _couldn't._ It couldn't be true. Lilith had to be mistaken. Ezra wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't leave Adam. They were his family. He _loved_ them. Didn't he?

Suddenly, Crowley's mind was flooded with tiny details he'd overlooked until this moment. Ezra's hesitancy to call them while he'd been away. His insistence on them not coming to the bookshop until the trial was over. The sadness that had clung to him last night. How Crowley been unable to tear the man away from reading stories with Adam. The desperation behind each of his kisses. The single suitcase he'd brought with him.

_It's for after the trial._

Crowley hadn't picked up on the deception then, but he recognized it now. Ezra was planning on running away. He thought that if he left them, Lilith would reconsider her play for custody. He believed that it was his fault Adam was being taken away and the only way to fix it was for him to leave, forever.

_I love you Anthony, I will love you with all that I am until the end of time._

He'd been saying goodbye. To Adam. To Crowley. That entire night had been his final goodbye to everything he'd known and loved in his life.

_This is already my home. I never want to leave it again._

"Bastard," Crowley hissed, startling both Adam and Lilith. She looked up at him with concern, but the man didn't care. He was already wracking his brain, trying to figure out how much time had passed since he'd last seen Ezra. Had the man already packed up and left? Was he still at the cottage, assuming the trial would go on for hours and he still had more time?

Was there still a chance Crowley could get back before the love of his life disappeared forever?

"Anthony?" Lilith started, but he was already moving, eyes landing in relief on a phone booth just outside the building. "Anthony, what's wrong?"

"Your decision was a total surprise to me," Crowley explained over his shoulder as he bolted for the booth, Adam still perched comfortably on his hip. "Which means Ezra doesn't know that you've changed your mind."

"I thought it best the two of you hear it from me in person first," she protested, hurrying out after him. Crowley could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn't yet understand what her withholding of knowledge had done. "I only just had the papers drawn up less than two days ago. I barely had enough time to get everything in order to tell the two of you today, let alone anyone else."

Crowley was panicking now. If Ezra wasn't at the cottage still, where would he go? He'd had the suitcase with him. Did that mean he wasn't planning on going back to the bookshop? Was he leaving everything else behind? Had he told anyone where he was headed? Surely, if Anathema or Newton knew, they would have said something. Was Ezra really trying to disappear to another country without leaving a trace?

"Lilith, he still thinks that he has to leave to ensure Adam stays with me. If I don't get into contact with him now, Ezra will be gone and I'll never be able to locate him. Adam and I may never see him again."

Her eyes went wide. "Anthony," she gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think - "

He responded by dropping Adam on the ground and shoving the paperwork in to her hands before slamming the glass door shut behind him. With shaking hands and a heart that was nearly exploding in his chest, Crowley dialed the cottage number.

No one picked up.

He tried again. Still nothing. Then he tried Anathema.

"Hullo?"

Newton. Not exactly the person Crowley wanted to talk to, but the man was better than silence.

"Newton!" Crowley exclaimed, very aware how panicked he must sound at the moment. "Is Anathema there? Has she gone anywhere?"

"She and I are just finishing breakfast," the man replied slowly and Crowley wanted to hiss at him to speed the fuck up because every second counted now. Every moment they wasted in this conversation was a moment more Ezra had to disappear from their lives forever. Crowley knew his angel thought he was doing the right thing. The man also knew that his sacrifice was completely unnecessary now. Lilith had given them a way to be happy _together,_ if only he had a way to reach Ezra! "Then she was supposed to head over to your place. Ezra said he needed a ride into town. Forgot something important at the bookshop."

Relief swept through the red haired man. Ezra wasn't gone yet! If Anathema was his ticket out, then Crowley still had a chance.

"Listen to me very carefully, Newton," Crowley spoke with more intensity in this moment than he had ever dared to before in his entire life. "You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to let Ezra leave that house. I am coming back for him, and if that _bastard_ isn't there when I get back, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?"

"Wait a minute. What's going on? Anthony -" Newton began to ask, but Crowley didn't have time for this. He and Adam had to get home _now_ and talk some sense into that brilliant, clever, _stupid_ man.

He hung up the phone. Opening the door quickly behind him, Crowley grabbed Adam with one arm and the papers in another, shooting an apologetic glance in Lilith's direction.

"I'll have these back to you as soon as I can. I promise."

She simply nodded, a look of guilt flashing over her face. Crowley didn't blame her. He imagined she had a lot going on these past few weeks and the notion to tell Ezra that things had changed had slipped her mind. He was grateful for what she'd done today, more grateful than he could ever put into words, but right now, he couldn't focus on that. He couldn't focus on anything other than getting back to the cottage as quickly as physically possible to stop Ezra from making the biggest mistakes of their lives.


	30. A New Purpose

Ezra was dragging his feet. He _knew_ he needed to leave. There was no way for him to be sure how long the trial would take. He had anywhere from two hours to the whole day to get the _hell_ out of here before Anthony got back. If he didn't leave, then all would be lost. Adam would be forced to stay in London and all three of them would be completely miserable and heartbroken.

At least, this way, Adam would still be with his father.

The man knew he was doing the right thing, but when it came time to actually leave the cottage, he found it much more difficult than he anticipated. Ezra felt like his limbs weighed a hundred times more than usual. He trudged through the house, cleaning up the breakfast dishes, straightening the bedroom, reorganizing Adam's books like he was moving through water or some other kind of viscous liquid.

Ezra could barely breathe through the pain in his chest. The world was ending around him and he was dying along with it. How could he possibly leave this place? How could he ever feel at home anywhere else?

Deep down, he knew the answer was simple: he wouldn't. Ezra would live the rest of his life feeling like he didn't belong, because _this _was the place he was supposed to be. The man could feel it in every cell in his body. They were screaming at him to stay_staystay_ because he would be lost anywhere else.

But Ezra couldn't stay. Adam came first. Adam would always come first. And Adam needed to be with his father, so Ezra had to leave.

Finally, when he could think of no other task to complete, Ezra picked up the phone. After the second ring, Anathema answered.

"Hello Ezra," she said quietly. "What can I do for you this morning?"

The man cleared his throat, wishing that he didn't always get so flustered when he had to lie. "Good morning, Anathema dear, I was wondering if you or Newton were around sometime today and could give me a lift." That bit wasn't the lie. He hoped she would focus more on the request and less on his reasoning why. "I forgot something very important at the bookshop and meant to give Anthony the key to pick it up on his way back, but it completely slipped my mind, with all that's going on."

He heard the woman's sympathetic sigh on the other line. "Of course, Ezra. Newton and I are just about to sit down to breakfast. I'll swing by in a bit to pick you up, alright?"

"Yes," the man murmured, hoping she couldn't detect the anxiety in his voice. "That sounds perfect. Tickety-Boo, as it were. I'll see you soon."

He hung up the phone before she could respond and let out a deep breath. How long would Anathema be? Anthony was probably just now arriving at the courthouse. The trial wasn't scheduled to start for another fifteen minutes and assuming neither side caved right away, it would surely take at least an hour if not more. And then there was still another hour drive for Anthony and Adam to return home. He still had several hours to get himself away. There was no need to panic yet.

What to do while he waited? Ezra didn't particularly want to remain inside. It was a beautiful day outside and being in this house was bringing forth too many feelings. The man felt like he was drowning in them. What he needed was a breath of fresh air.

Without a second thought, the man grabbed his suitcase and headed outside. He sat down on the wooden bench in the courtyard and pulled out his copy of 'Hamlet' and began to read. It took a while to get into the words - his mind was so scattered trying to focus on a hundred different things. After a while, Ezra found himself being absorbed once again by one of his favorite stories and everything else around him ceased existing.

Nothing could break him out of his trance. While he was reading, the man was transported into another world. When Ezra was here, he was safe from all the pain and heartache that was waiting for him. The second Anathema arrived and he stopped reading, it would really be the end. He wasn't ready for that. He would never be ready.

A car pulled up into the drive and for the briefest of moments, Ezra thought it was Anthony. He slammed the book down in his lap, eyes flying wide with fear, only to relax again when he saw the familiar long black hair and kind brown eyes gazing back at him as Anathema climbed out of the driver's seat.

"I see you've packed your suitcase." Her statement was pointed, but not harsh. Ezra felt his face flush in embarrassment. He should have known he'd never be able to hide anything from this woman. She probably knew he was planning on leaving before she'd even driven over to see him.

"Anathema, I can explain - " she cut him off with a wave of her hand, brown eyes shining with sympathy.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Ezra," she murmured softly as she walked toward him, wrapping her arms around the man in a warm hug. He broke down as he leaned up against her, unable to keep the sorrow at bay anymore.

"Shh," she murmured. "It's ok. It's going to be alright. You'll see."

"How?" he moaned through his tears, lungs gasping for breath. "How is it going to be alright?"

She reached up to cradle the back of his head, holding him close to her. "I just know it will. You know I can't explain how these things work. I don't always have the best idea myself." She paused for a moment, then pulled back, smiling at him softly.

"Let's go for a walk. Just you and me. We'll head down to the creek for a little while and then once we get back, you can leave."

Ezra sniffed, wiping the tears from his face. "You won't try and stop me? Talk me out of it?"

Anathema shook her head. "I would never try and stop you from doing what you believe is right. I know you Ezra, and you would never do anything out of hatred or spite. Anything you do is an act of love, one way or another."

The man smiled a watery smiled. It was a relief to hear that Anathema understood him. He only hoped that someday, Anthony and Adam would come to understand too.

They walked arm in arm up the pathway and to the bridge where they'd met at the beginning of summer. Autumn had arrived in full force now, the leaves on the trees well on their way from lush green to brilliant reds and golds. Ezra gazed up at the colorful canopy as they walked, a comfortable silence stretching between them.

Eventually, when they'd reached the bridge and had taken up their positions leaning against one side, Anathema spoke.

"I'm sorry that life is so unfair to you," she murmured, reaching out a hand to lay over Ezra's. He turned toward her and smiled sadly, appreciating her sentiments, but knowing they would never be enough.

"I have hope," he responded, just as softly, eyes drifting back to the slow moving water beneath them. "I have hope that someday, things will get better. Someday, people like me will be free to love whomever they want. People like me will be allowed to have a family. They will be allowed to belong. Humanity _is _progressing. We will get there someday. Just not fast enough for me to experience happiness." Ezra laughed quietly, but it was harsh and bitter. Memories of Anthony's letter surface in his mind, and for once, he didn't push them away. "Maybe in my next life, things will be different."

They remained silent for the next fifteen minutes before turning around to walk arm in arm back to the cottage. It was midmorning now, a little over two hours since Anthony had left with Adam. Ezra knew it was time for him to leave. He couldn't dawdle any longer.

"Ready, my dear?" Ezra asked as they approached the house. He leaned down and grabbed his suitcase. Anathema nodded, then glanced over at the door briefly, a strange look coming over her face.

"Would you mind if I used your washroom before we go?" she asked politely. "I won't be long."

Ezra stepped aside and let her past, placing the suitcase back on the stone pavers beneath his feet. Another deep sigh departed from his lungs as Ezra looked around at the courtyard. If he had to pick a single place on Earth to call his favorite, it might be this place. This is where he and Anthony had spent so many nights talking once Adam went to bed. This is where they had admitted their feelings for each other. This is where they had kissed for the very first time.

It seemed only fitting that this is where he would be saying goodbye.

The sound of crunching gravel reached his ears and Ezra frowned. It couldn't be Newton, could it? He was under the impression that the couple only had one vehicle. Who else would be driving up to the cottage at this time of day?

Ezra's blood froze when he saw the bentley pull up and a very handsome, very angry red-headed figure storm out of the car.

_No. _What was Anthony doing here? Why wasn't he still at the courthouse? Where was Adam? _No. Nonono. _He still had more time. It had barely been two hours. Just enough time to drive into London and come back. Had the trial finished that quickly? Had they lost anyway, despite what Ezra had promised to do? Had they lost because Ezra hadn't left already? Was this all his fault? Was he the reason Adam wasn't also jumping out of the car?

"What the hell are you doing here?" the blonde man found himself asking before he could stop himself. "You're supposed to be in London at Adam's trial!"

Anthony was furious. He stalked over to Ezra, golden eyes blazing. "What the hell are _you _doing?" the man countered, coming to a stop several feet away. "You've got a bloody suitcase with you. And Anathema's car! You're trying to leave me. How could you?"

Ezra felt tears surfacing again. How had this happened? Why was Anthony here? He was supposed to be with Adam! He was supposed to be fighting to keep the boy with him. Why in the world would he leave that all behind just to come tell Ezra off for doing what he had to do?

"I didn't have a choice!" the man yelled back, his heart aching inside of him. "It was my fault Lilith was trying to take Adam away. She didn't want someone like me raising her son." He paused and took a deep breath to steady himself. "I won't be the thing that keeps you from your son, Anthony. Adam is worth a hundred of me and you know it!"

Anthony's jaw clenched. He wasn't crying, not yet, but Ezra can see that the man was hurting. He was devastated at the thought of Ezra leaving, which the man knew he would be. He'd been struggling with the pain for nearly a month. It must be so much worse for Anthony now, on the day that was supposed to be his greatest victory. This was why Ezra had wanted to leave before his love came back. Now, with Anthony standing before him, the full knowledge of what Ezra was trying to do out in the open, it had just become a hundred times more difficult for the man to leave.

"That's not true," Anthony argued, fists curling at his sides. "I love you, Ezra. You _know_ that. And I know you love me too. You're everything to me."

The tears were falling now. Why couldn't Anthony just leave well enough alone? Why couldn't he see that Ezra was doing this _for _him? And for Adam.

"You don't love me more than Adam," Ezra pointed out, his voice falling to almost a whisper. "You can't love me more than Adam. And that's what it comes down to, isn't it? Given the choice between the two of us, you'll choose him every time. I _want_ you to choose him every time." He emphasized the last part, praying that Anthony would understand. That the man would step aside and let him _leave_. That he would drive back to London and _go get Adam_ before it was too late.

"I'm keeping both of you," the man said stubbornly. Ezra heaved a sigh. Why wouldn't he see reason? It was impossible for Anthony to keep both of them. He _had_ to choose. Even though there hadn't really been a choice to begin with.

"No," Ezra huffed. "You're not. If I stay, Lilith will take custody of Adam. The only way she will let you have him is if I go." More tears fell hot and fresh on his cheeks. Ezra made no move to wipe them away. "It would be selfish of me to stay. I won't put you or Adam through the pain of losing each other, Anthony, I won't." He tried to make the statement sound final, but it came off more desperate than anything else. Desperate for Anthony to _understand _and let him leave in peace before he fell apart. "You need each other more than you need me."

A small smile began to spread across Anthony's face, causing Ezra to pause. Was something wrong with him? Why was he smiling on what was possibly the worst day of their lives?

"Hey Adam!" the red haired man shouted as he turned his attention back to the car. "Get out here and show Mr. Fell what you have!"

Ezra's heart leapt into his throat as the car door opened and the boy hopped out, rushing over to them with a manilla envelope in hand. What was going on? Adam was _here_? How? Why? What in the world was Anthony smiling about? None of this made any sense.

The boy stopped when he reached his father's side, a wide grin on his face. Ezra watched as Adam handed Anthony the envelope. He could barely breathe as the man unfolded the opening and slipped out several pieces of paper.

"This," he began as he handed them over one by one to Ezra, who took them with unseeing eyes. His mind registered that there were words on the page, but he was too shocked to absorb what any of them said. "Is a copy of our divorce settlement papers. Once I sign them, Lilith and I will be legally separated. She will take her share of our assets and I will never owe her anything else again."

He handed Ezra the second piece of paper, a single sheet this time with only one set of signatures. Anthony had already signed this one, it seemed, making it complete. "This," he explained after a moment, realizing that Ezra would still not be able to process it in his current state. "Is a document signed by Lilith and I declaring you to be Adam's Godfather."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Godfather?" he breathed. Impossible. Why would he be made the boy's godfather? This had to be a dream. There was no way what he was holding was real. It was everything Ezra hadn't known he wanted. An official document recognizing him as a part of Adam's life. And with Lilith's blessing! How was this possible?

Anthony was grinning now, his smile identical to the one on Adam's face. Ezra looked up from the papers in his hands to both of them, still not understanding what was going on. Why were they so happy? What did they know that he didn't?

"And this," Anthony breathed, taking a step closer to wrap his fingers around Ezra's unsteady hands. It was only now that the man noticed they were shaking. "This is Adam's custody paperwork. Signed by Lilith. Giving full custody rights to me and _you."_

Ezra gasped as he looked at the first line on the newest packet of papers Anthony had handed him. There, written in black ink, as clear as day were two names: _Anthony J Crowley - Father_ and _Ezra Fell - Godfather_.

It was too good to be true. This had to be some kind of trick or figment of his imagination. Lilith had been clear in her desires when he'd spoken to her several weeks ago. She hadn't wanted Ezra near her son, and now she was giving him her permission to raise Adam _with_ Anthony.

"This…" he trailed off, unable to form the words to express all he felt in that moment. Hope welled up inside of him as he looked up into Anthony's gorgeous amber eyes. "But how -"

Anthony took another step forward and kissed him, free hand rising up to cup his cheek. Ezra trembled beneath his touch, unable to hold his joy back, still not quite understanding what had happened. He wanted to ask - wanted to have Anthony explain it to him, but was afraid that if he said anything else the dream would shatter and Adam and Anthony would be gone from his life once more.

"You did it, angel," Anthony breathed as he pulled away, eyes swimming with adoration. "My brilliantly, stupid angel. You changed her mind. You showed her that what was best for Adam was to be here with a father who adores him and a man who would give up his own happiness for Adam's." He pulled Ezra in for another kiss, unable to contain his joy. "She saw what you were willing to do and realized that, out of all of us, _you_ were the one best suited to care for Adam."

Ezra sobbed, relief flooding through him. He finally understood. Lilith had not only released Anthony with their divorce. She had not only released Adam with the custody papers. She had given Ezra a new title - a new purpose. A reason for being in Adam's life. A reason for him to be in Anthony's life.

She had given them a reason to live together - to be seen together. Sure, they may not be able to hold hands in public, or kiss, or sit with their arms around each other as other couples did, but Ezra could drop Adam off at school. They could walk through the park together. Go to dinner or the movies. They could be together, the three of them, without fear of being found out. Ezra had a legitimate, court ordained reason to be a part of this family. He didn't have to leave to protect them. He could _stay._

"I can _stay_," he whispered to Anthony with such ferocity, such relief that it brought more tears to both their eyes. Anthony hugged him closer, pressing their foreheads together in an intimate moment. Ezra smiled as small arms wrapped themselves around both of their legs. Pressing one more kiss to Anthony's lips, Ezra handed the papers back to Anthony and bent down to scoop Adam up, bringing him into the family hug.

"You can stay," Anthony agreed, wrapping his arms around both of them. "Forever and ever." Adam flung his arms around both men's necks and squeezed on tightly like he was never letting go again.

Finally, Ezra knew that the boy wouldn't have to. They'd found their home - their _family_ \- all three of them, here, together, and they would never be parted again.


	31. A Brighter Tomorrow

The autumn leaves turned bright red and slowly faded into a dull brown until they began to crumble and fall from the branches on high. Nights grew colder and the sun inched further and further away from them. The first snowfall came on December sixteenth that year, adding one extra day to the school children's planned Christmas Holiday.

In that time, Ezra and Anthony had settled quite nicely into their new life together. Adam had been switched to Southgate Primary school at the end of September and had already made several friends there. Ezra hadn't had the chance to meet any of them yet. They still had to be cautious when interacting with other people, so Anthony had made the rule that Adam could only spend time with his friends at their houses. Still, Adam spoke nonstop about Brian, Wensleydale, and Pepper - so much so that Ezra felt like he knew the children personally.

He and Anthony had found their own tasks to keep them busy while Adam was at school. Ezra had gotten a job at the local library. It didn't pay much, but he enjoyed organizing events for the children and being surrounded by books made him feel like home.

In the end, Ezra had chosen to sell the bookshop anyway. There was no need for him to have a home in London anymore, now that he had Anthony. He'd kept the books, however. Most of them had ended up in the cottage attic space, but Ezra had found a special place for some of his favorites in the sitting room as well as their bedroom.

Anthony had found work at the cottage. He'd spent nearly a month adding a greenhouse on the back of the house. In it, the man had really started to explore his passion for gardening, raising all sorts of beautiful plants. There were flowers of all sorts - carnations, tulips, daisys, orchids. Now that winter had come, Anthony had started growing poinsettias too. One of Ezra's favorite pastimes was to sit in the warmth of the room and read in his special corner of the garden that Anthony had created for him. It wasn't much, just a simple bench and a small trickling fountain, but to Ezra, it was paradise.

"Dad!" Adam's voice called from the front window. "Ezra! They're here!"

Ezra looked up from the kitchen table, placing the last of the silverware down in its proper place. Adam had been stationed on lookout for their guests for the past half an hour, anxiously awaiting their arrival. The man barely had enough time to remove his apron before Adam pulled the door open and Newton and Anathema waltzed through the entrance.

"Happy Christmas!" he heard Anathema's familiar voice ring through the house. Ezra walked into the sitting room just in time to see Adam launch himself at the woman, nearly knocking her back into Newton. The man chuckled at Adam's enthusiasm, then moved to grab the packages in Newton's hand.

"Let me get these for you," Ezra laughed, placing the presents underneath their tree to sort out later. "Dinner should be almost ready. Please, have a seat."

The young couple hung their coats by the door and made their way into the dining area. As they walked, Anthony emerged from the kitchen with a plate full of carved turkey. Ezra met his amber eyes and raised his eyebrows, silently asking if the man needed any help bringing out the food.

Anthony gave him a slight nod and Ezra bustled into the kitchen to grab the rest of the dishes, darting around Adam as the boy bounced excitedly up and down, yammering on and on about how excited he was to show them the dessert he'd help make and sing carols and exchange presents later on in the evening.

Ezra had never really enjoyed Christmas before. He'd been on his own for the past ten years, and never really had anyone to celebrate with. This would be his first Christmas with his new family and the man found that he was ridiculously excited, as well as a bit nervous.

Once the food had been set out on the table, Ezra took his place at the table, Anthony to his left and Adam right across the way. Newton and Anathema had joined them at the other end and together, they began to eat.

After the meal was finished, and once he'd received permission from his father, Adam leapt up from the table and rushed into the kitchen to retrieve the tray of chocolate dipped sugar cookies he had prepared for them to enjoy. They cleaned up the dishes and retired to the sitting room to enjoy the remainder of the holiday festivities.

"Can we sing carols now?" Adam asked excitedly, passing the plate of cookies around to the adults in the room. Newton and Anathema had taken one each, happily settling into their seats on the couch. Once they were finished, Ezra grabbed the plate, rotating in place to set it down on the table behind him. A set of long, graceful fingers darted out and snatched up an entire handful of the cookies before Ezra could place them safely out of the way. The man looked up at Anthony, a look of mock indignation appearing on his face. Without warning, Ezra made a grab for the cookies, but Anthony darted out of the way, hurrying over to the armchair sitting in front of the Christmas tree. He was out of Ezra's reach...for now.

"Sure thing, Adam," Anthony declared before shoving one of the sweet treats into his mouth, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously in Ezra's direction. The blonde haired man huffed, then made his way over to the piano bench to sit beside Adam.

The boy had already pulled his music book out and was studying the page, trying to remember where his fingers were supposed to go. Anthony's cottage hadn't always housed a piano. This had been the first thing he and Ezra had decided to purchase together in order to make the house more homey for both of them. Ezra had taken piano lessons as a child and when Adam had found out, the boy had insisted on learning. It had been slow going at first - Ezra was a literature expert, not a music teacher, but Adam was clever. Once he'd gotten the hang of it, the boy had proven to be quite good.

They played through 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' and 'Angels We Have Heard on High' first, as these were two of Adam's favorites and the ones he was most familiar with. So far, the boy was only capable of playing the right hand notes. Ezra took up the spot on the bench to his left and played the lower clef, following along with Adam's pace, as fast or as slow as it happened to go.

After Adam had played through his favorites, they sang some of the other more famous carols, Ezra sliding over to take over the playing when one of them proved to be too difficult for Adam. When they were done, Adam hopped off the bench and hurried over to Anthony, climbing up into the man's lap before he could protest.

"Can we open presents now?" the boy asked. "Can we?"

His father laughed and Ezra rotated around so he was facing Anathema and Newton, his family sitting just to his right.

"Adam," Ezra reminded gently. "Christmas is still two days away. You don't get to open your presents until the 25th."

The boy pouted, eliciting a laugh from Anathema. "He can open ours, Ezra," she mentioned. "And there was a second package on your doorstep when we walked in addressed to him." The woman looked back over at Adam and winked. "That should be enough to tide him over until Saturday."

Adam tore into their present first, revealing an encyclopedia of flora and fauna natural to Southern England. "So you can start cataloguing all the salamanders you find out here," Anathema explained. The boy slid off his father's lap and hurried over to her, wrapping his arms around her first and then quickly following up with Newton.

Ezra beamed at them. What a wonderful gift to give the boy! He couldn't wait for spring to come. Think of how many adventures they could go on, exploring the area and trying to find evidence of all the species listed in that book.

"You must have meant to give that book to Ezra," Anthony teased, glancing over at the blonde haired man. Ezra blushed, frowning over at his love. Anthony simply grinned, reaching out to capture Ezra's hand with his own. Slowly, he raised it to his lips and kissed the soft skin on the back of Ezra's hand, sending shivers down the man's spine.

"Can I open the other one with my name on it?" Adam asked curiously, placing the book down on the ground beside him. He looked up at Anthony first, hazel eyes then drifting over to Ezra, asking them both for permission. Ezra's heart soared. There were not enough words to describe how wonderful it felt to have this boy see him as a father figure.

He glanced over at Anthony, giving the man a final say over what his son could or could not do. The man simply nodded his head, giving Ezra a pointed look that said '_he's just as much your son as mine. Go ahead and make the call. I trust you_'.

Ezra smiled, cherishing the fluttering feeling he still got in his chest when he thought of just how _lucky_ he was to be here with all of these people he held so dear to his heart. "Go on, Adam. But you have to open and read the card first before you unwrap it.

The boy did as instructed. Inside the envelope was a single postcard with a hand drawn image of an iconic green statue, holding aloft a torch.

"Dear Adam," the boy read, voice loud and clear. Ezra smiled. He'd come so far since the man had started working with him earlier that year. "I hope you are doing well and that this gift finds you by Christmastime." He paused, squinting at the next line. Ezra remained silent, waiting to see if he would figure it out on his own. "I have taken it upon myself to see the world these past few months. I thought you might like to see some of the places I've been."

Pride filled Ezra's heart as the boy finished. He had gotten every single word right. Placing the post card aside, Adam began to unwrap whatever was inside the brown paper package. Slowly, Ezra leaned forward and picked up the drawn image and turned it over, smiling when he saw Lilith's familiar handwriting.

"Woah!" Adam exclaimed as he pulled out a small leather bound notebook. Inside were dozens of sketches of places all over the world. As the boy flipped through it, Ezra recognized the Eiffel Tower in Paris, watery streets of Venice, the Scotland Highlands, even some Greek islands. Lilith had certainly been busy in the past few months. By the looks of the postcard, she had just landed in America. "This is so cool! Did Mum draw all these?"

"I'd imagine so," Anthony murmured, leaning forward to take a look. "She was always a pretty good artist, when she bothered to try."

Sooner than he would have liked, it was time for Adam to head to bed. Anathema and Newton said their goodbyes, promising they would visit again soon. The boy gave them each a long hug and then practically dragged Anthony and Ezra upstairs to read stories. He tried to convince them to read seven, since that's how old he was and it only made sense. Ezra finally managed to talk him down to three, saying that if they stayed and read seven stories, he and Adam's father would be too tired the next day to do anything fun.

Ezra absolutely adored reading to Adam, but even he had to admit defeat as they finally came to the end of the third one. The man could barely keep his eyes open. How in the world was Adam still so energized? The boy was wide awake, practically vibrating within his bed, his excitement uncontainable.

"Adam," his father warned sternly, grabbing the boy's attention. "Do you remember what we talked about earlier? What is it you're supposed to do now that Anathema and Newton have gone home?"

The boy sighed. Without saying another word, he settled down under his covers, head resting firmly on the pillow. Ezra smiled and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the boy's cheek.

"Goodnight, Adam," the man whispered softly. "Sweet dreams, my dear."

Adam stifled a yawn. "Goodnight Ezra," he murmured, closing his eyes. "I'll see you later."

Ezra and Anthony returned downstairs. The blonde man's eyes immediately fell to the wrapping paper strewn across the floor and the plate of cookies that still needed to be cleaned up, not to mention the food littered tablecloth. He stepped forward with the intention of getting to work when a hand caught the crook of his elbow.

Spinning around, Ezra found himself face to face with Anthony. The look in his amber eyes took Ezra's breath away.

Gently, a soft hand came to rest in the place where Ezra's jaw met his neck. He shivered at the touch, eyelids fluttering closed. Soft lips caressed his own and Ezra found that he no longer cared about the state of the sitting room. What did it matter if it stayed messy for a few hours longer? There were much better things he could be doing with his time, after all.

"Ezra, my love," Anthony whispered through kisses, sending tingles of pleasure down the man's spine. "Would you like to go on a brief walk with me? There wasn't a single cloud in the sky earlier this evening. I'd imagine the stars are beautifully bright tonight."

Ezra swooned, gasping as Anthony's hands began to slide down his neck, fingers tracing lightly over his collarbone. Heat coursed through his body and suddenly he was having a difficult time remembering what Anthony had even asked him a second ago.

"Isn't it - " he moaned as Anthony backed him up against the wall nearest their bedroom door. Grinning mischievously, the red haired man pulled back and shushed him, amber eyes flashing upstairs for the briefest instant. Ezra's mouth slammed shut, heart racing. Had Adam heard them? Was he being too loud? Blood rushed to his cheeks as the man struggled to get a handle on his desires and form a coherent thought at the same time.

"Isn't it a bit cold outside for a walk?" Ezra murmured, catching his breath. He shuddered at Anthony's tantalizing grin. The man leaned in, his breath hot against Ezra's ear.

"Maybe I could warm you up a bit first."

Ezra felt a small, breathless 'please' emerge from his lips before Anthony was on him again. Lips were hot on his neck, expertly finding all the places that made Ezra melt. He trembled beneath the weight of Anthony against him, hands running up the man's back, tugging at the collar of his shirt, cursing the fact he hadn't thought to undo more of the buttons before his love's chest had been flushed up against him so wondrously.

"If you want to - " Ezra gasped, whispering into Anthony's ear as the man pressed kisses down his neck and along the base of his throat. Fingers were tugging at the base of his shirt, trying to pull it free. For once, Ezra wasn't wearing a vest with his attire. He had opted for a simple dark green dress shirt and grey trousers. One less layer of clothing that stood between him and utter bliss. "If you want to take that walk," he tried again as his fingers found their way into Anthony's hair. It was longer now, reaching down past his ears and brushing the base of his neck. Ezra briefly wondered if the man was growing it out. The mental picture that went along with the thought was nearly enough to send him over the edge. "You should probably be trying to put clothes _on _me. Not take them off."

He'd meant it as a joke, but the words slowed Anthony down. His kisses transformed from an all consuming wildfire to the soft glow of an ember. Ezra sighed, wishing he had just kept his big mouth shut, but this seemed important to Anthony. He would go along with whatever his love wanted.

"Sorry," Anthony smiled and Ezra's heart soared. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Where is your coat?"

The men took a minute to compose themselves and grab their outerwear. Ezra also made a move for his scarf, blushing as Anthony stepped forward to tie it around his neck for him.

"You're adorable when you get embarrassed, angel," he murmured, pressing a light kiss to Ezra's lips. "I hope you know that."

"Yeah?" the man muttered, only half annoyed by his partner's comment. "Well you're adorable all the time."

Anthony laughed, grabbing onto Ezra's arm as he dragged the man out the door.

They had both been right. It was absolutely cold outside and the stars were brilliant to behold. Ezra's gasp of wonder created a puff of thick misty breath in front of him as the sound left his mouth. He could not tear his eyes off them. They were just so _bright_. Before tonight, Ezra had no idea stars could look like this.

"They're magnificent, Anthony!" the man exclaimed, squeezing the arm he was currently hanging onto. Ezra could feel his love smiling softly beside him.

"That they are, angel, that they are."

The two walked in silence for a moment, heading down their favorite trail. Snow still littered the ground, hanging around in various patches that were too stubborn to melt all the way during the height of day. Briefly, he wondered what the chances of having a white Christmas were and exactly how much snow needed to fall for it to count as one. Was a dusting enough? Did there have to be several inches? Enough to shovel the road, perhaps. Did previous snowfall count? What if it snowed on Christmas Eve, but stopped before midnight. Did that count as a White Christmas? Who was in charge of these sorts of things? He would very well like to know.

"I thought you didn't like wandering far at night," Ezra protested when he realized where they were. The creek was just on the other side of the hill in front of them. They'd never gone this far from Adam before, at Anthony's request. Had the man realized how far they were from the cottage? "Adam's still back home."

His heart gave a little flutter at the sound of the word _home_ coming from his lips. That was exactly what the cottage had become. Ezra had been amazed at how quickly the transition had taken place.

Anthony smiled softly in the darkness. "Don't worry, angel," he murmured as they approached the top of the hill. "He won't miss us."

Ezra relaxed at this, trusting Anthony completely. If Anthony was comfortable leaving Adam at home for a little while, then so was he.

They crested the hill and Ezra tore his gaze away from the beautiful red haired man beside him. Suddenly, Ezra's feet stopped. His blue eyes went wide as he took in the scene before him.

The pathway had been lined with dozens of candles leading down to the small wooden bridge. Shadows flickered around them in the gentle glow of firelight, reminding Ezra faintly of fireflies and the warmth of a hearth in the dead of winter. Down the path, standing at the end was a single archway built out of poinsettias. In the dim light, Ezra could see the wooden structure behind the plants, built to house and shape not only them but the small candles that had also been sprinkled about within them, illuminating the bright red petals and beckoning Ezra closer.

A gentle tug at his arm jumpstarted the man's legs again. Ezra walked down the aisle, one foot after the other, his eyes wide with wonder. How had Anthony made this? When had he found the time? Ezra had been with him all afternoon. He couldn't have snuck away. So how - ?

Ezra's eyes fell to the figures standing to the left of the arch. Newton and Anathema were gazing up at the pair as they approached, smiles adorning their faces. Tucked between them was Adam, pajama pants stuffed into his snow boots, wearing a red sweater that was definitely several sizes too big. The man smiled. At least he looked warm.

"Anthony," Ezra breathed as the pair stopped just in front of the archway. He turned to look at the red haired man. "What is all this?"

The man smiled hesitantly, dropping Ezra's arm. Before he could protest, a single envelope appeared from the man's pocket. It was plain parchment, no discernable designs, with a single, penned name written on the outside envelope.

_Ezra._

Tears pricked at his eyes, but for once they were tears of joy. Ezra gazed up at those gorgeous amber eyes and beamed. Anthony smiled back and handed him the letter.

"I promised you a replacement one," he explained softly, eyes shining in the candlelight. Ezra had never seen him look more breathtakingly beautiful. The way the firelight shone off his hair - it was magnificent. "Open it."

Ezra did as he was told. He wouldn't have been able to hold himself back, even if he had tried. Slowly, gently, the man unfurled the letter, looking up with tears in his eyes.

"My Dearest Ezra," Anthony recited from memory, taking Ezra's free hand in his own. "There are not enough words in all the languages on earth combined to describe what you mean to me..."

He recited the letter word for word, line by line, Ezra reading along all the while, his blue eyes never once leaving the page until it was completed.

_My Dearest Ezra,_

_There are not enough words in all the languages on earth combined to describe what you mean to me. I realize I told you this once before, in a very different kind of letter, but I want you to know that I mean it - every word. _

_Before you, my life was meaningless. I was disconnected from everyone and everything around me. I hated the world and knew that it hated me too. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Not my so-called friends, not my coworkers, not my family, not even my son._

_And then you walked in my front doors. I remember the first time we met - how well dressed you looked except for that ridiculous tartan bow tie. You were polite and cordial to me and the moment Adam walked in the room with tousled hair and dirt all over his clothes, you showed him kindness the likes of which I had never seen. You made him smile with the first sentence you spoke and I was captivated by you. I found that I wanted to know you._

_Every moment from then on, you have shown nothing but kindness - to me, to Adam, to all the people you interacted with. You stepped up to take care of Adam when our nanny walked out. You invited us on holiday when you knew I needed to get out of London or the city would suffocate me, filling my lungs with fire and brimstone. _

_You saw me then - you've always seen me. You saw me fighting the terrors of war from within my own bed. You saw me slowly wasting away when my family was falling apart. You saw me struggling to know my son and you took the time to teach me how to love him. I will always be grateful to you, my angel, for showing me how to be a part of Adam's life._

_You are the light in my darkness, the calm in my storm. You chase away the terrors of the night with the love you exude from every part of you. I no longer have to fear anything if I know you are by my side._

_I love you, Ezra, my angel. I love you more than life itself. I love you because you showed me kindness when no one else did. I love you because you saw me when I couldn't even see myself. I love you because you gave me a family - a purpose. I love you because you are my very best friend._

_If the world were different, people may look at us and say we don't make sense. We are two very different people from two very different worlds. By all logic, we don't fit. But the world has never understood us - never understood this wonderfully, beautiful thing that we have together. I have just one thing to say to them._

_We're ineffable, Angel. And that's all there is to it._

_Even though the world will not yet recognize us for what we are, I vow this day to love you with my entire heart. I am yours, Ezra Fell, always and forever. I have known this since the moment you first called me 'dearest' and probably felt it long before that. I will honor and respect you. I will care for you when you are sick. I will comfort you when you are sad. I will never go to bed angry with you. I will support you in your dreams. I will raise my son with you._

_I vow to share every aspect of my life with you, from this moment forward. Now and Forever._

_All my love,_

_Anthony_

When he had finished, Ezra looked up, tears running down his face. He was trembling - from joy, happiness, from a love so overwhelming he could hardly come to understand it most days.

"I don't know what to say," he breathed, the crisp night air carrying the words around them like an echo.

Anthony smiled softly, then squeezed his hand.

"It doesn't matter what you say, angel," the man murmured, amber eyes burning with love. "So long as it's from the heart."

Ezra nodded, then began to speak.

"Anthony, my dearest love, my best friend. I don't have pen or paper to write these words down and immortalize them for the rest of time, but I hope they still will become etched upon your heart so you will never forget that you are _everything_ to me."

"Before you, I believed love was not meant for me. I believed to love was to endure heartbreak, and sorrow, over and over again, because although I had love enough to spare, it was never returned. Not before you."

"I love you, Anthony, more than words can express. You call me an angel, but _you_ are the one who has blessed me. You have given me a love I thought I would never have. You have let me into your family, made me a father to your son. I am happier now than I ever knew to be possible. You and Adam are everything to me."

Ezra paused, taking a moment to look down at Adam, then over at their dear friends, Anathema and Newton. All three were smiling ear to ear, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for the man to finish. Slowly, Ezra turned back, his eyes locking with Anthony's once more. The man gave the hand in his a gentle squeeze.

"From this day forward, I promise to always be honest with you. I will listen to you when you need to talk, hold you when you need to cry. I will do my best to provide for you and Adam. I will love him like he was my own. I will love you like you are as precious as all the stars in Heaven, because to me, Anthony, you are. You are mine, and I am yours. Forevermore."

Upon hearing him finish, Anthony leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ezra's lips. The man's eyes fluttered shut as he savored the contrast of the cold air on his cheeks and Anthony's warm lips against his. Ezra's heart was filled to the brim with love for this man standing before him, promising him the world. If anyone had told him this is where he would have ended up, and every heartbreak he would have experienced to get here, Ezra never would have believed them. Now, he wouldn't trade any of them for the world, for they all brought him here, to Anthony.

"Happy Christmas, Angel," Anthony whispered as he pulled back, leaning his forehead against Ezra's, amber eyes shining with love.

Ezra beamed up at him and the rest of the world fell away. _This. _This was everything he had ever wanted and never thought he would be able to have. This was happiness. This was heaven. This was home.

"Happy Christmas, my love. My _dearest_ Anthony."

They kissed again, amidst the firelight and the sparkling stars, shining brilliantly above them, surrounded by friends and family and the hope and promise of a brighter tomorrow.


	32. Epilogue: St James Park

**A/N: This is it, guys! Thanks so much for sticking with me. If you liked the story, please let me know. I live for feedback :)**

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The ducks in St. James Park were well acquainted with the best ways in which to gather food. They had a knack for sniffing out people holding on to extra crumbs and had perfected the look of absolute pitifullness that would soften any human heart. From generation to generation, they passed these skills down, hoping that this ancient knowledge would help lead them into a comfortable future.

It was impossible to tell exactly when - ducks didn't keep calendars, after all - but at some point, two figures entered the park and immediately caught the ducks' attention. To the ducks, they looked like any normal human beings at first. It didn't take long for them to realize that they were anything but. No humans before them, to the ducks' limited memory, had ever provided them with so much _food_.

They appeared on a regular basis, although not every day. If the weather was nice, the pair would sit down on the bench closest to the water's edge and toss food into the pond for hours, until all the ducks had been satisfied. At some point, they had been coming so often that the ducks flocked together, waiting for the two humans, their pitiful eyes in place and ready to go.

When the ducks correctly predicted the humans' arrival, the same response was always given. Upon spotting them, bobbing in a giant mass by the water's edge, the blonde haired man would break out into a smile, hurrying over to the bench to sit down. His companion, a taller man with shoulder length red hair, eyes usually hidden behind a pair of black glasses, would huff and then trail slowly behind, hands in his pockets, trying to hide a smile.

The two men would sit on the bench, side by side, talking for hours. Ducks had ears, of course, but hardly used them to pay attention to conversations they didn't understand. They were much more interested in the food being provided than whatever words passed between the two men. They never touched, never held hands, never draped their arms around each other like all the other pairs of humans did. These men were simply content to sid side by side and watch as the world went by.

Every once in a while, those two men would be joined by a third. He was younger, and tall like the one with red hair. This man laughed loudly like the red haired man and smiled brightly like the blonde and always stayed to talk to them for a little while, hugging them both goodbye when it was time for them to leave.

Some of the ducks whispered rumors that the man with the wild curly hair had come to this spot for a short time as a child, generations ago. He'd been accompanied by the blonde haired man back then and both had an aura of sadness about them that was long gone now. Ducks couldn't see auras, of course. That was a job for the witches, but even a blind creature could have seen how much pain they had been experiencing then.

Years went by. Old ducks passed away and new ducks were given life. The stories carried on with them and one day, to their surprise, a fourth human joined the group. A female, this time. She spent more time paying attention to the younger man than to any of the ducks, but the food kept coming, so the birds didn't mind too much.

A dozen or so seasons passed and then a fifth human appeared, small and loud and incapable of doing anything but sleeping and crying and being held. The ducks didn't care much for this one, but the two men with all the food were infatuated. Time after time, the small flock of humans came back and eventually, the tiny one learned to move on its own. First, it walked on all fours like a dog or a squirrel, which seemed strange to the ducks, because none of the other humans did that.

Eventually she - and it must be a she because there were always flowers pinned in her dark hair - learned how to use her legs properly and was constantly chasing after the ducks, trying to steal their food. They quacked at her in warning, explaining that this was _their _feeding spot and she should go find her own, which only seemed to pull fourth loud shrieks of laughter and joy.

The cycle of time continued on and the men grew older. It was impossible to see it happen with their own eyes and even within their own lifetimes, the ducks did not seem much of a change. Perhaps a few more grey hairs or wrinkles around the eyes, but other than that, the men never changed. They still sat side by side, shoulders almost touching, as they tossed food to the faithful birds waiting below.

One day, out of the blue, something was _different_. The men still walked side by side down the path to their bench. Ducks gathering below spotted them and sent word to all the others. Smiling, the pair sat down in their assigned spots, the one with a round face and white hair sitting on the left, taller grey haired man on the right. One dressed in cream colored clothes, the other in almost all black. They appeared sort of like a yin and yang to each other, although ducks would know nothing of the sort.

Just like always, the man on the left pulled out his bag of food and began tossing crumbs to the birds below. If they were paying close enough attention, the ducks would have seen his smile was just a bit brighter this morning. He was practically glowing, blue eyes shining beneath wrinkles that only many decades of living can bring.

Ducks had ears, and if they had been bold enough to listen, they might have heard the once red-haired man lean over to his partner and whisper softly in the space between them.

"I love you, angel."

The words were said out in the open, without fear. And if the ducks had been paying attention to their history lessons, they might have realized that these words had never been spoken between the pair - not in this place, at any rate. If they'd been paying attention, they might have seen how the tartan wearing man beamed as the words reached his ears. If they had been paying attention, and if they'd bothered to learn the human's language, they might have heard the man's response.

"I love you too, my dearest Anthony."

Ducks had eyes, too, which they used a bit more often than their ears. For example, though he had ignored the whispered sounds earlier, one duck happened to look up from his scavenging at that moment to witness history in the making. Without trumpets or spotlights or fanfare of any kind, the shorter man's hand moved from its assigned place on the wooden bench and intertwined itself with the one resting beside it.

It was the simplest gesture in the world, and to the ducks, it meant absolutely nothing. Humans held hands all the time. There was no reason to even notice such an act when doing so would detract from filling their bellies with food. They had other things to worry about.

To the two elderly men, sitting on the bench in St. James Park, holding hands for the first time in public because doing so was _finally_ not against the rules, the gesture meant a bit more than nothing.

To them, the gesture meant absolutely everything.


End file.
